


Kaleidoscope

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: Fic A Day In May [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: (does this count as a hs au), (not a major part of the fic - just discussion), Alternate Universe, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Dick Pics, Drug Use, High School AU, I'm gonna add tags as I go, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Sexting, badly written almost-smut, blood tw kinda, cheesy admissions of love, ficadayinmay, happy endings, he's a history teacher i'm so excited for this, i feel like mick is slightly ooc, i have no sense of timelines just roll with it, ian is still a carrot, inappropriate relationship, rape tw, student!Ian, teacher!Mickey, um kind of like actual smut stuff too now whoops, weee christmas, writing at 3am LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 40,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey Milkovich is a history teacher. Ian Gallagher is a student in one of his classes. Hijinks will ensue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mickey Milkovich: Southside (High) School Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> I would've made Mickey a maths teacher, but I know shitall about maths, so he's a history teacher instead (because I'm WAYYYY more familiar with that subject). 
> 
> *whispering* i'm also on tumblr at im-not-his-keeper.tumblr.com c:

Mickey had never liked school, so why the fuck he decided to become a high school teacher was completely beyond him. Apparently he wasn't the only one who was confused about his life choices, because when he told Mandy, she said,  _"Are you fucking mental?"_ which pretty much summed that up.

Mickey had developed an interest in a subject that could've made for the most boring thing ever - history. Mickey, however, liked that the majority of it involved battles and wars, no matter the amount of boring shit (aka politics) he had to get through.

Once Mickey had achieved his degree in History and diploma in teaching, he was offered a job at the high school he had once attended. Which was fucking weird, because he was now all buddy-buddy with teachers that hated him. They didn't really give him much of a chance, to start with, but once they saw how well acquainted with his subject he was, they laid off a bit and started being nicer to him. They still eyed his knuckle tattoos warily though.

It was the first day of a new year, and Mickey arrived at school late. Of course he did. The campus was  _crawling_ with students, and Mickey fought the urge to cringe and tell them all to fuck off as they stared at him walking onto the campus.

Some of these fuckers had started high school the year he finished, so there was pointing and whispers of  _"What the fuck is Mickey Milkovich doing here?"_ as he walked past them.

Mickey ignored them all and again, wondered why the fuck he was doing this. He walked straight to his classroom and dumped his bag, organising handouts, his laptop and other bits and pieces on his desk before the bell could ring and his first class could begin.

Mickey had just sat down as the bell rung shrilly outside his door.  _That fucking bell._ God, it sounded like the shrieks of a harpy. 

Students streamed through the door. Seniors. A lot of them eyed Mickey suspiciously when they saw him sitting behind the desk. They took their seats and looked around at each other. Mickey took that as his cue.

He stood up and cleared his throat. Before he even had the chance to say anything, a bright purple haired girl put her hand up and looked at Mickey expectantly.

'Yeah?' he said.

'You're Mickey Milkovich, right? Graduated a few years ago?'

'I am.'

'Okay, so I was wondering, Mickey, when the teacher is arriving?' she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Mickey rolled his eyes. 'I am your teacher. Funnily enough, after I finished high school, I actually did something with my life more productive than dying my hair a random colour of the fuc- rainbow.' Mickey caught himself just in time to avoid saying  _"fucking"_. There were probably rules about swearing in front of students. He looked around the class. 'Any other questions?'

A redhaired boy at the back put his hand up. Mickey recognised this one. He was the little brother of a guy that was in his class. 'Since we know you, or at least some of us do, are we supposed to call you Mickey or Mr Milkovich, or what?'

'Uhh...' Mickey shrugged. 'Probably Mr Milkovich? But call me Mickey if you want because I don't give a shit.' A few students gasped at Mickey's swearing and he mentally cursed himself. 'Fuck, ignore that.' A few more students started giggling and Mickey sighed heavily. 'This is off to a great start.'

'Are your knuckle tattoos real?' someone asked. Mickey looked around for the speaker and his eyes landed on the guy next to the redhead dude. 

'Yeah, they are.' Mickey confirmed.

'What do they say?' the same guy questioned further. 'Can't make it out from here.'

Mickey flexed his fingers self-consciously. 'FUCK U-UP.'

The kid's mouth dropped open in a small "O". 'Why would you get that on your hands?'

Mickey's mouth quirked into a smile. 'What's your name?'

'Paul.'

'You're not from around here, are you, Paul?'

'Nope, moved here last year.' Paul said, as if he was proud of the fact that he was unwittingly antagonising one of the most dangerous people to step foot in the halls of the school. 'Is it to make you look tough?'

'Yeah, thought you might be new.' Mickey looked around the room. 'Someone explain to the kid while I give you the handout.'

Mickey saw the redhead pull Paul towards him and explain quickly what the deal was with the Milkovich name. By the time Mickey arrived at the back row to give them handouts, Paul had a sufficiently scared expression on his face as he looked up to Mickey.

'Please don't kill me.' Paul whimpered.

Mickey laughed. 'I'm not going to kill you. I'm a teacher, not a murderer.'

'Falsely accused, wasn't it?' the redhead piped up beside him.

'I was on the list of suspects but I wasn't in town when it happened.' Mickey clarified. 'Though I can't say I'm sorry to see the fucker dead.' Mickey shut his eyes, and sighed. 'I need to get a handle on my swearing.'

'Don't even worry about it. You know what it's like here.' the redhead smiled, accepting the paper Mickey gave him.

'Yeah, that's true.' Mickey agreed. 'You're a Gallagher, right? Lip's little brother?'

'Ian.'

'That's right.' Mickey nodded, satisfied with that answer. 'How's he doing?'

'He seems to be okay. He finished college and got this fancy job through his girlfriend's parents.' Ian shrugged. 

'Good for him. I always thought he was a bit of an asshole.'

'He still is.'

Mickey laughed and walked back up to the front of the classroom. He went through the handout, thankfully not swearing any more than he already had, and whenever his eyes wandered to the back left corner of the classroom, he could see Ian watching him with a small, seemingly amused smile on his face. 

Mickey decided that the Gallagher kid wasn't half as bad as his brother. Maybe this class wouldn't be too bad if he had this Gallagher on his side.


	2. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should've mentioned that for the purposes of this fic, Ian (whee and Mandy who's kinda at the end of this) are both 17, Mickey (and Lip, consequently) is about 22. 
> 
> (Sidenote: Worst and most uncreative chapter title I think I have ever come up with.)

Mickey thought his first week as a teacher had gone pretty well. He had made it through his classes without swearing too much (no matter what Ian said, he was trying to be a presentable teacher, so he was cutting back), and it looked like his previous reputation as Southside badass had stuck with him as he became a teacher. His students – actually any students that saw him – seemed to fear him a bit. Well, most of them.

Ian didn’t seem particularly scared of him, though. He teased Mickey, but he wasn’t stupid enough to try and get a rise out of him in the way a few other kids were.

It was last period, on a Friday, and Mickey was cranky and annoyed.

He had the senior class with the Gallagher kid for his final class of the week, and it should’ve been refreshing, because Ian was one of his favourite students, but it wasn’t. Not today.

It was like these three boys had this sensor that could tell exactly when Mickey was in a shitty mood, and would choose that moment to piss him off.

They entered the classroom with a swagger than none of them should’ve had – they were varying heights, thought they were the most attractive people in the class (so very, _very_ , wrong) and liked to pick on other people. One of them – what the fuck was his name? Jed? – was kinda muscular, but not as muscular as he thought he was (“Look at these guns, baby.” he said, flexing his skinny arm at one of the girls. “I should be arrested for unlawful possession of firearms.” _Fucking idiot._ ) and bossed his two friends around. They thought he was some sort of god, because he had tiny little biceps that they hadn’t managed to attain themselves.

Jed sat at his desk and just smirked at Mickey. He snickered to his friends and whispered like preteen girls while Mickey laid out the plan for that afternoon.

Mickey was getting pissed off really quickly, so he stopped speaking, sighed loudly and looked pointedly at Jed until he realised he was being targeted.

‘Yeah, teach? Why you makin’ eyes at me?’ Jed sneered, looking Mickey up and down like he didn’t see him as a threat.

‘Because I’m talking, which means you’re not supposed to.’ Mickey said. ‘Any gossiping you need to do can be done outside my classroom.’

Jed held his hands up innocently. ‘Sure, teach.’

Behind Jed, Ian rolled his eyes. Mickey took that as a sign that he was in for more from Jed and his pair of idiots, so he readied himself mentally while finishing off what he was going to say and getting everyone to flip open their textbooks. ‘Okay, so read those two pages then answer the questions I’m going to write up. Answers in by the end of class, anyone unable to get all the questions finished will need to speak with me next week, because these questions are easy enough for a five year old to answer and should only take you about half an hour.’

‘What if we have no paper?’ Jed asked loudly.

‘Borrow some from a friend.’ Mickey said, turning towards the board.

‘No pen?’

‘Borrow one.’

Mickey thought he had finished with Jed until he said, ‘What if we can’t read?’ There was a chorus of snickers and laughing from Jed’s friends.

Mickey took a deep breath. ‘If you can’t read, then you should probably just drop out of school because, clearly, you haven’t learned anything in the time you’ve been here.’

‘Nah, I’m just here for the ladies.’ Jed said, winking at the purple haired girl in the front row.

At the look of disgust that appeared on the girl’s face, Mickey laughed. ‘They’re not here for _you_.’

‘I’m sure there’s a line of girls just _waiting_ to be with me.’ Jed said seriously.

‘Yeah, you and your “guns”.’ Mickey said, making little air quotes. A few people in the class laughed. ‘Now, I don’t care if you can’t read, have no paper and no pen, do your work in silence and we can all leave.’

Jed shrugged. ‘Sure, teach.’

Mickey finished writing questions up and sat down at his desk to open up his laptop and check his emails – for some reason, the other teachers liked to send chain emails to each other, and Mickey was now included in that group. He hated getting them, but sometimes, there were important bits and pieces mixed in with them, so he had to check.

He opened up his inbox, and right at the top was one from a student email address. Ian Gallagher.

Mickey looked at Gallagher over the top of his screen and clicked it open.

 

_Don’t worry about them, they’re assholes. They like taunting teachers, especially subs and new ones. Also, if you want to really strike a chord with Jed, I recommend bringing up Leah. He asked her out a few days ago and she turned him down in a spectacularly public fashion. Aka Facebook._

Mickey raised an eyebrow and looked back at Ian before typing a reply and hitting send.

 

_You shouldn’t be on your phone in class, Gallagher. But thanks for the heads up._

He watched as Ian checked his phone and smiled, nodding slightly towards Mickey.

Mickey went back to scrolling through his emails, found that not only were the majority of them were chainmail, but that one of the biology teachers had sent out several emails with cat videos attached. The science department was actually crazy.

About ten minutes later, Jed sighed loudly and raised his hand.

‘Yes?’ Mickey asked, closing the tab of another kitten video.

‘Can I go to the bathroom?’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Don’t know. _Can_ you?’ the English teacher in him had made an appearance.

Jed looked confused. ‘What?’

‘Never mind. Looks like it would go straight over your enormous head.’ Mickey went back to his laptop.

Jed switched up his tactics. ‘You seem pretty interested in whatever’s on your laptop. Girlfriend sending you naked pictures?’

Mickey looked back up and tilted his head. ‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Jed said. His friends hooted and high fived.

 _Yeah, great joke._ ‘Don’t get all high and mighty with me, kid. You don’t have a girlfriend either. I heard you got turned down over Facebook a few days ago.’

Jed went bright red. ‘How did you hear about that.’

‘I have my sources. Now shut up, and go back to work.’

‘Hey, you can’t speak to me like that!’ Jed protested.

‘Oh, yeah?  What you gonna do about it?’ Mickey crossed his arms. ‘I have superiority over you.’

Jed pointed a finger angrily at Mickey. ‘I can take you.’

Mickey laughed. ‘Threatening a teacher? Wow, that’s a step in the right direction.’

‘I’m not joking! I could do it!’

‘A toddler could take you.’ Ian piped up behind Jed. ‘My brother is four and he has more muscles than you.’

‘The cokehead baby brother?’ Jed sneered.

Ian narrowed his eyes and leaned close to Jed. ‘Say that again, I fucking dare you.’

‘Cokehead baby brother, cokehead baby brother.’ Jed sang. ‘Watcha gonna do, Gallagher?’

Ian launched himself out of his chair and at Jed, knocking him to the ground. He punched him in the face and blood spurted into the air.

‘Woah, guys!’ Mickey said, jumping from his seat and rushing towards where Ian was still throwing his fist at Jed’s face. He put his arms around Ian’s middle and hauled him off. ‘Outside, now!’ Mickey shouted, pointing towards the corridor.

Ian brushed himself down and walked calmly towards the door while Mickey and a couple of people pulled Jed upright. His nose was bleeding profusely, he had a split lip, and a dazed look on his face.

Mickey rolled his eyes and said to the two guys holding him up, ‘Jesus, just take him to the nurse.’

They nodded and tugged Jed upright before walking him out of the classroom.

Mickey looked at the clock to see there was only ten minutes left. He sighed and said, ‘Okay, turn in your questions now and you can all just go.’

The class broke into chatter immediately as people started packing their bags and moving out of the room, dropping their papers onto Mickey’s desk as they left. When everyone had left, Mickey went outside and looked to where Ian was sitting just down from the door. ‘Gallagher, you need to come back in here.’

Ian looked up and stood, walking silently into the classroom. He sat down at one of the desks in the front row that was directly opposite Mickey’s and clasped his hands together.

Mickey shut the door and sat on the edge of his desk. ‘You wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?’

‘He was making fun of my brother.’ Ian said.

‘What was he saying? Kid can’t speak that well.’

‘He was saying “cokehead baby brother”. And sorry if I’m not going to let him make fun of Liam like that.’

Mickey looked confused. ‘Should I even ask how that nickname came about?’

Ian narrowed his eyes and sniffed defensively. ‘My sister left out some coke, Liam got into it, and sorta had everything left over.’

‘Jesus, he alright?’

‘Yeah, he’s fine now, but there was a lot of worry about whether he’d still be okay in the head when he came out of the coma, you know?’

‘Hmm. So I suppose that punch was kind of called for. People that taunt and bully kinda have it coming, don’t they? Not that I’m condoning what you did.’

‘Hah.’ Ian rolled his eyes. ‘Mickey Milkovich telling _me_ violence isn’t right? Yeah, okay.’

‘Hey, I’m not like that anymore. I got myself straightened out and I’m a teacher now. Leave my past out of it, Gallagher.’

‘Sorry.’

Mickey sighed. ‘I still have to give you a punishment for punching him in the face.’

‘I know.’

‘Fuck, I don’t know. A week’s worth of detention starting Monday? Both lunch and after school?’

Ian nodded. ‘Seems fair, I suppose.’

‘Good.’ Mickey stood up. ‘Um, so, it looks like it’s end of school. You can go.’

‘Okay, thanks, Mr Milkovich.’ Ian said, getting up and retrieving his stuff.

As Ian walked past, Mickey said, ‘Try not to punch anyone else, yeah?’

Ian grinned. ‘I’ll try.’

 

* * *

 

_ay mandy?_

_what_

_you know a kid called ian gallagher? he’s your year, right?_

_yeah, course i know him. why?_

_he punched a kid in the face, something about his brother._

_liam?_

_yeah_

_mm, people bring it up a lot. he’s never punched anyone because of it though, he usually just shrugs it off and insults them back. he’s all “violence as a last resort”. why?_

_just wondering if i need to be on guard every time someone talks about it_

_was it jed talking about liam_

_yeah_

_good, he’s had it coming for ages_

_huh. how do you know all this about gallagher?_

_he’s my best friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Btw, if you hadn't realised, that italics stuff between Mickey and Mandy is texting. Can't be bothered creating timestamps etc, so roll with it.)


	3. Adventures in Detentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished my sentence at 1,000 words. Seemed like a good place to end. Also, achievement unlocked.

Mickey had no idea how to run detention. When he had been at high school, all the teachers did was sit there and eat, playing on their phone or laptop, or reading a book, while Mickey was bored out of his mind and stared at the ceiling, counting the number of holes in each tile.

Maybe, like him, they just had no idea what the fuck they were doing either. Ian seemed completely at ease, sitting in the classroom. He pulled out his phone and started taking pictures of random things in reasonably quick succession.

‘The fuck are you doing, Gallagher?’ Mickey called from the front of the classroom.

Ian turned to him, mid-duckface, and smiled sheepishly. ‘Snapchat.’

‘Snapchat.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Who’re you Snapchatting?’ Mickey asked, pulling out a sandwich from his bag.

‘Uh... Mandy.’

‘My sister, Mandy?’

Ian nodded. ‘It’s kind of weird. My best friend’s big brother is my History teacher.’

Mickey shrugged. ‘It’s only weird if you make it weird.’

‘Wise words, sensei.’ Ian said, inclining his head in a sort of bow.

‘Arigatou gozaimasu, Ian-san.’

Ian raised an eyebrow but said nothing at Mickey’s apparent knowledge of Japanese. Instead, he went back to taking his selfies and sniggering at the replies.

Mickey watched Ian and tilted his head curiously. ‘You dating my sister?’

‘Me? Dating Mandy?’ Ian laughed. ‘Nooo. Just friends.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, she tried to get with me a few years ago but uh. That didn’t work out quite as she planned.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m gay.’ Ian shrugged, firing off another Snapchat.

‘You’re gay?’ Mickey asked, surprised.

‘Very.’ Ian nodded.

 _Fuck._ ‘Huh.’ Mickey said to himself, taking a bite of his sandwich.

‘Does that bother you?’ Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Why would it bother me?’

‘You’re a Milkovich.’

‘Does Mandy know?’

 ‘Yeah.’

‘Does it bother her?’

‘No.’

‘Great, me neither.’ Mickey shrugged.

‘Really?’ Ian asked, surprised. ‘No sudden urges to kill me?’

‘Nope. That would be counterproductive.’ _Oh shut up would you._

‘What?’

‘What?’

Ian frowned and sent another picture to Mandy. A few seconds later, Ian said, ‘Does Mandy know?’

‘Know what?’ Mickey asked, looking up from his phone.

‘That you’re gay.’

Mickey was silent. _Shit_. ‘I’m not gay.’

‘Shame.’ Ian sighed. He pulled sandwich from his bag and started eating it, continuing to send Snapchats as he did.

‘Can you stop doing that?’ Mickey asked after a few minutes.

‘Stop what?’

‘Snapchatting.’

Ian grinned. ‘Why?’

‘Because that fucking camera noise is making me want to kill you.’ Mickey growled.

Ian rolled his eyes, but put his phone away anyway, leaving him to concentrate on eating his sandwich.

It should’ve felt weird, sitting there with Mickey. The silence should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t. Ian was comfortable just being in the same room as Mickey, with no words passing between them. Even though Mickey was a teacher. And a really hot teacher, at that.

Ian must’ve been staring at Mickey without realising, because Mickey said, ‘The fuck are you lookin’ at, Gallagher?’

Ian mentally shook himself. ‘Hmm?’

‘Why you staring at me?’

‘Was I? Sorry.’ Ian said, smiling. ‘It’s just weird, you know?’

‘What is.’

‘You’re my best friend’s brother.’ Ian shook his head. ‘Sorry, just ignore me.’

‘I can try.’ Mickey murmured.

 

* * *

 

Mickey was about 98% sure that teachers weren’t supposed to be this happy to be spending time with one student in detention. He was probably supposed to be pissed off that this fucking kid had punched another one in the face, and now he had to spend his lunch break and like an hour after school, sitting in a room with the little asshole.

Instead, Mickey was really happy to be sitting in the room with the Gallagher kid. He was smart, witty, and wasn’t afraid of him like the other kids were. Was it bad Mickey was looking forward to the twice-daily detentions? Probably. Was it bad he was considering extending it just so they could spend more time together? Fucking _definitely_.

Sadly, or maybe _not_ so sadly, Mickey got the feeling that Ian wouldn’t even question it, and would just nod and roll with it. Fuck. Mickey could lose his job if this was going to turn into what he thought it might.

And fuck it, because Ian had straight away questioned Mickey’s sexuality. Like he could just see straight fucking through him. Mickey wanted to be made of concrete, or fucking marble (he was pale enough for marble by all accounts) but instead, he was clearer than crystal, or glass, and Ian could read him like a book.

Mickey could tell that Ian hadn’t believed him about not being gay. But seriously? What the hell was Gallagher hoping would happen? Him and Mickey? Fucking unlikely as lightning striking the same place twice. Mickey had to stop reminding himself that, actually, lightning strikes the same place twice more often than you’d think, so he locked that weird thought away, and tried to keep his relationship with Ian _strictly_ educational.

And he would start by not extending Ian’s period of detentions.

 

* * *

 

It was Friday, after school, and this was Ian’s final detention. As usual, he had his phone out, and was Snapchatting Mandy like his life depended on it. Mickey was watching him as he made a range of faces for his selfies to Mandy.

‘Is that all you do?’ Mickey asked. ‘Snapchat my sister?’

‘Mm...’ Ian typed a little message and sent it off. ‘No, only when I have nothing better to do.’

‘Do you ever Snapchat anyone else?’

‘Sometimes Lip or Debbie, but mostly Mandy, yeah.’ Ian tilted his head. ‘Why?’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Just wondering.’

‘Do _you_ have Snapchat?’ Ian asked.

Mickey looked up from his phone. ‘Yes.’

Ian grinned. ‘Would it be weird if I added you?’

‘Dunno. Would it?’

‘It’s only weird if you make it weird.’ Ian said, smirking, knowing full well he had just quoted Mickey to himself.

‘Ha. Ha. Ha. Hi-larious, Gallagher.’ Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, alright. What’s your username?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Also, I'm writing the next chapter right now while it's in my head (even though it's 1:47am on a Monday morning but I don't care, not like I have anywhere to be today.)


	4. No Backing Out Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sings* 'Cause I'm in too deep and I'm trying to keep up above in my head, instead of going under...
> 
> Anyway, I'm on FIRE. Second chapter in an hour, so yay for that. There's texting at the end of this chapter, which I hope you can follow, because I'm lazy and can't be bothered with timestamps etc so yeah. Also, I hope everyone is slightly familiar with the layout etc of Snapchat. Because it looks like that's gonna be featuring a lot in this fic. Yay for Snapchat!

Mickey could tell straight away that giving Ian his Snapchat username would be the end of him. And, well, he was kind of right.

Late on Friday night, actually more like Saturday morning, Mickey received a Snapchat from Ian. Mickey was just about to go to sleep, and he figured that maybe being on the receiving end of a Gallagher selfie would be nice for a change, instead of having to see it in action.

Yeah, it wasn’t a selfie. At first in his tiredness, Mickey couldn’t exactly make out what it was. And then it hit him.

Gallagher had sent him a dick pic.

No caption. Just a dick. Presumably _his_ , going by the uh. Firecrotch.

Mickey took a random picture of his wall and wrote as a caption: “ _WHAT THE FUCK GALLAGHER_ ”

The reply was hasty. “ _FUCK I’M SO SORRY WRONG PERSO_ ” with the remaining ‘n’ not fitting in. Thankfully, it was just a picture of what Mickey assumed was a ceiling.

“ _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK”_ Mickey sent back, another picture of his wall.

“ _WRONG PERSON OH FUCKING GOD_ ” Another ceiling picture.

“Let’s pretend this never happened yeah” Mickey replied.

“oh my god i’m so sorry fuckfuckfuck”

“Just shut up. I’m sleeping.”

“Yeah of course I’m so sorry”

Ian wasn’t sorry. Of course he wasn’t sorry. He had, however, just gotten away with sending his sister’s big brother, his own _teacher_ for God’s sake, a dick pic. The first of (probably) many.

 

* * *

 

A fucking dick pic.

Mickey’s mind was still reeling when he woke up. He had breakfast, pretending everything was normal – not like he had anyone to pretend in front of, seeing as he lived alone – and went in the shower. The picture was still replaying in his mind, and Mickey soon found himself feeling completely disgusting as he jerked off to the image in his head.

Fucking Gallagher and his stupid fucking Snapchat. And his dick. Fuck that dick. Fuck Gallagher. Jesus.

Mickey climbed out of the shower and dried off quickly. He had work to do, he couldn’t be pondering over the idea of one of his _students_ and the fact that he had been on the receiving end of a dick pic from him. Jesus fucking Christ. It was only, what, week two? And Mickey was already having some form of a breakdown? What a fucking useless teacher he was.

Mickey growled and threw his pen at the stack of papers in front of him. He flopped backwards into his couch and covered his face as he half-laughed, half-sobbed. What was the time? Not even ten. Time for his breakfast beer.

Mickey got up and retrieved a bottle from the fridge, and had just cracked open the top when there was a knock on his door. He walked the seven steps to his front door and opened it to see Mandy standing there... with Ian.

‘Hey, Mick! We’re just on our way to do some shopping, but I really have to use the toilet.’ Mandy smiled as she pushed past Mickey and made her way to his bathroom.

‘Yeah, morning, Mands!’ Mickey called, taking a pull from his beer.

Ian stood awkwardly in the doorway, shuffling his feet. ‘I, uh. I’m sorry about –’

‘It’s fine.’ Mickey interrupted. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Are you sure? I mean...’ Ian sighed. ‘Wrong person. I’m so sorry.’

‘Seriously,’ Mickey grinned. ‘It’s fine.’

‘You’re my teacher.’

‘Don’t fucking remind me.’ Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘You want to come in?’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Ian said, walking into Mickey’s apartment. ‘It’s weird seeing teachers outside school, it’s even weirder being in their house.’

‘Fuck off. We have lives.’ Mickey said, going back to his papers. ‘Well, not really.’

Ian stood beside Mickey’s couch, looking around the living area. ‘Nice place.’

‘It’s a shithole.’ Mandy said, reappearing beside Ian.

‘Wow, thanks.’ Mickey said, swatting his sister’s arm. ‘If you’re done, you can fuck off now. I have work to do.’

‘Yeah, whatever. See you later, Mick.’ Mandy said, opening the door and ushering Ian outside.

 

* * *

 

Ian was at home when he got the first Snapchat from Mickey. It was another wall picture, because apparently Mickey hated taking selfies. “ _Ay you got a cell I can text?_ ”

Ian grinned and sent off his number to Mickey. A few seconds later, he got a text.

_so you were right_

_about what?_

_me_

_you what_

_being gay_

_you’re gay? wow never saw that coming_

_fuck off gallagher_

_what am i supposed to do with this information?_

_fuck if i know_

_is this you secretly asking for dick pics_

_no i'm your teacher_

_is that a yes? you’re only like five years older than me_

_yeah that’s way too old_

_seriously i have fucked guys twice your age_

_that’s disgusting_

_a fuck is a fuck and besides, they buy me stuff_

_hah good for you_

_so really, five years older than me is the youngest i will have done_

_are you saying you want to fuck your teacher?_

_did you never want to fuck any of your teachers?_

_my teachers were all geriatric viagroids. no. i never wanted to fuck them._

_huh_

Mickey knew he could definitely get fired for the text he was about to send. He took a deep breath, said, ‘Fuck it.’ and sent the text. _you can if you want_

_i can what_

_send the pictures_

_... are you asking for dick pics now?!_

_not asking... requesting_

_same thing_

_fuck you_

_maybe later_

_no because once we do that, we’re both fucked_

_so?_

_i'm a teacher! YOUR teacher! i could lose my job for this._

_i'm not stupid enough to tell people_

_you fucking better not be_

_should i send you that picture now to make you feel better_

_...yeah_

Mickey knew this was a bad idea. A really bad idea. And he was doing it anyway, because apparently he was fucking stupid like that now. He was going to risk everything for some redhaired kid. His little sister’s best friend. His student. Fuck.

All rational thoughts, however, left his brain after a Snapchat from Ian came through. First, a little red square, then a little purple one. Mickey opened the picture for the eight seconds on the timer first, but if the dick pic Ian had just sent him wasn’t enough to convince Mickey maybe this was a _good_ idea, then the ten second video of Ian stroking himself certainly was.


	5. The First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like my brain went on holiday. This chapter is so fucking weird. What the fuck am I doing with my life. But hey, I suppose I can be excused, seeing as it's 3:15am. Again.

_i'm starting to think you got the better end of the deal here_

_what do you mean?_

_i have used every single fucking angle i can think of, dick pic-wise_

_yeah and_

_well... it’s only fair i get some in return_

_do you think so do you_

_yeah i do_

_not gonna screenshot them are you? i don’t need my sister going through your phone and finding pictures of my cock floating around_

_no? why? ARE YOU SCREENSHOTTING MINE???_

_i wish i'd thought of it sooner_

_I FUCKING SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ARE_

_no relax of course i'm not_

_good. send me something._

_now?_

_why not?_

_...yeah okay give me a sec_

Mickey could feel himself flirting with danger. It wasn’t a good idea, but whatever. Mickey liked living dangerously, especially when his job was on the line. He had to keep reminding himself that even though he and Gallagher were only a few years apart in age, Ian was still his student, and this was probably one of the worst things they could do without dicks going up butts.

Mickey could tell that once Ian had gotten him to send a few pictures, he would move on to the next milestone, and the next, crushing the obstacles in his way until eventually – dicks would go up butts.

Honestly? The only thing that was keeping Mickey from jumping directly onto Ian’s dick, ass first, was the fact that he was being cockblocked by his job. And it was important to remember his job, because if he lost it, he lost well – everything, really. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck. If Ian had sent him a text at that moment asking Mickey if he could come over and for them to have sex, he probably would’ve found Mickey lying on his bed, completely naked, already in position.

Yeah, it had been a while since Mickey had gotten laid.

He was pretty glad he lived alone, because it meant he didn’t have to go off to his room, or the bathroom, to take a couple of pictures all secretly. Mickey had the freedom to just whip it out in the middle of his living room. So he did.

He opened Snapchat, taking a couple of minutes to get himself to full hardness, before taking a picture and sending it off to Ian. Well, now they were on a level playing field. A text came through from Ian a few moments later.

 

_yeah i suppose that was worth waiting for... ;)_

_well i would hate to disappoint_

_haha. so... are we dating or something?_

_uh no?_

_are we fuck buddies?_

_we ain’t fuckin gallagher. you're yet to stick it in._

_oh? mickey milkovich is not only gay, he’s also a bottom?! colour me surprised._

_would you have bottomed?_

_fuck off. what are we?_

_we’re making decisions that would disappoint our parents, it would seem._

_my parents don’t give a shit_

_neither do mine_

_yay for us_

_heh. why you want to label this?_

_i like things being defined_

_yippee for you_

_you’re a very sarcastic little person aren’t you_

_fuck you i'm not little, i'm average and you’re freakishly huge_

_aw thanks mick. are you free tonight?_

_yeah, why?_

_ever heard of this place called fairytale?_

_heard of it, don’t know much except it’s a gay club, never been._

_great but you know where it is?_

_yeah_

_meet me there at idk say 11_

_not past your bedtime?_

_nope my bedtime is 11.30 ;)_

_kay i'll see you there then_

_yes, yes you will._

* * *

Mickey had spent the majority of his day marking bits and pieces from his classes, so it was good to leave the house and do something that didn’t involve a pen. He was waiting at the bar for Ian to appear, though it was a club, and Ian was only 17, so how he’d get in was a bit of a mystery. If Mickey had to guess, he’d have a fake I.D., because God knows, those were easier to come by than you’d think. By 11.10, Ian still hadn’t shown, and Mickey was wondering if he’d been stood up. Well, if he was going to look like a friendless twat, he might as well have a drink in hand while he did it.

He ordered a Jack Daniels, and was surprised when the bartender asked him a question as he passed over the glass. ‘You wouldn’t happen to be Mickey Milkovich?’

‘Yeah, why.’

‘Got a message from Curtis asking you to go down and see him.’

‘Who the fuck is Curtis.’ Mickey asked.

The bartender smiled and pointed to a stage in the middle of the floor.

‘No fuckin’ way.’ Mickey said, mouth dropping open. He walked down to the stage and poked “Curtis” in the leg. ‘The fuck you doing, Gallagher?’

Ian looked down briefly and grinned. ‘My job. Got a last minute shift and thought you might want to come by.’ Ian winked at a guy standing near him and gyrated his hips for a few seconds before turning his attention back to Mickey. ‘Good that you got my message though.’

‘Why the hell are you called Curtis?’

‘Can’t dance by my name.’ Ian said, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Oh, yeah, right.’ Mickey said sarcastically. ‘When do you finish?’

‘Uh... One.’

‘Great, I’ll just be over here then.’ Mickey said, walking over to take a seat on one of the couches.

He sat on the couch for the rest of Ian’s shift, slowly sipping glasses of Jack Daniels, and watching Ian dance. The boy was a fucking _god_. Pretty much the only part of his body that Mickey had seen was his dick (now tucked somewhat precariously inside a pair of golden booty shorts), but he wasn’t surprised to see nicely defined muscles, and taut, almost translucent, skin covering them. Damn. Absolutely no chance of escape from Ian’s pale clutches now. Oh well.

When one a.m. finally rolled around, Ian jumped off his stage and stood in front of Mickey. ‘I’m gonna go get changed, but I’ll meet you at the front of the club in five minutes, yeah?’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Mickey said, standing. ‘Hurry the fuck up, I’m tired as shit.’

 

* * *

 

Mickey wasn’t entirely sure how he didn’t see this coming.

The original dick pic incident had happened almost exactly a week ago, down to the minute. And now, here they were. It had taken Ian a week to get Mickey into bed.

They had just stumbled into Mickey’s apartment, thrown the door shut, and were now pressed up against the wall of Mickey’s hallway.

Their coats were already off, shoes were being kicked in four different directions, and they were currently concentrating on ripping (well, removing) each other’s shirts off.

‘Fucking BUTTONS.’ Ian growled, fumbling to undo them one by one until he could yank the offending shirt off Mickey. ‘Can’t you wear tee shirts like a normal fucking human?’

‘Fuck off.’ Mickey said, pulling Ian’s tee over his head. ‘Button downs make you look better.’

‘Also like you’re an eighty year old with his pants pulled up into his armpits.’ Ian said, nipping at Mickey’s neck.

‘I’ll change your mind about that.’ Mickey said, shoving his hands between them to get their pants undone.

‘I don’t doubt it.’ Ian said, moving Mickey’s hands away to get his pants off himself. He stepped out of them (toeing off his socks at the same time – handy trick, that) and pushed Mickey against the wall.

‘Ahhh fuck. Bed. Bed bed bed.’ Mickey said, shoving Ian away and striding into his bedroom. He pulled his pants and boxers down and crawled across his bed to get lube and a condom from his top drawer before he stopped and realised exactly what he was about to do. He looked back at Ian with a mildly horrified expression on his face. ‘What the fuck are we doing?’

‘I thought that was kind of obvious.’ Ian said, raising an eyebrow. ‘What did you think we were doing?’

‘The same thing but... I’m your teacher.’

‘I don’t care if you don’t.’

‘I _do_ care though. I can lose my job if anyone finds out, and I actually kind of _like_ my job.’

Ian rolled his eyes. ‘When you’ve finished having your little breakdown, you’re still going to end up at the conclusion you were at a minute ago.’

Mickey studied Ian’s face. Little asshole thought he was right. He was, but whatever. Mickey huffed. ‘Fuck you. Get on me, Gallagher.’ he said, tossing the stuff to Ian.

He caught it easily and tore the little packet open, rolling the condom on before getting behind Mickey who was face down, ass up.

Ian lubed up a couple of fingers, pressing one inside Mickey until he was interrupted. ‘Don’t even bother, Firecrotch.’

‘Huh?’ Ian asked, looking towards where Mickey’s face probably was.

‘Trust me, just get it in.’

‘Don’t you need...’

‘Nope.’ Ian could swear Mickey sounded smug. ‘I’m probably still kinda loose from last night.’

‘Last night?’ Ian asked, eyebrows merging with his hairline. ‘The fuck happened last night?’

‘I wasn’t fucking anyone. Maybe I’ll show you one day.’ Mickey waved his hand impatiently. ‘Seriously, just get on me.’

Ian shrugged to himself and pushed slowly into Mickey. ‘Not quite as loose as you thought.’ he murmured.

Mickey pushed back onto Ian. ‘Shut the fuck up and move already.’

 

* * *

 

They were just lying in Mickey’s bed, having gone for another two rounds, before Mickey decided he should get some sleep. Which was pretty much the only thing he had enough willpower to stop it for.

He told Ian to just stay over, so he did, no questions asked. They trailed their fingers lightly across each other’s arms, hips, backs, just to still be touching. It was ridiculous, how they were fucking not ten minutes earlier, and this was what they couldn’t get enough of. It was addictive.

And if Mickey thought he was getting in too deep with sending dick pics, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. But being guilty felt oh so good.

 

* * *

 

They only regretted it for a few minutes the next morning when there was a knock on the door, and Mandy’s singsong voice calling, ‘Mickeyyyyyyy!’

‘Fuck!’ Mickey hissed, poking Ian awake. ‘Get up. Get the fuck up. Find your fucking clothes and put them the fuck on.’

‘What? What’s happening?’ Ian asked, rubbing his eyes.

‘Mandy’s here.’

Ian’s eyes flew open. ‘ _Shit_. Help me find everything.’ They both leapt out of bed, finding Ian’s clothes hiding the evidence of last night.

‘Mickey, I can hear you in there!’ Mandy said.

‘Are you dressed?’ Mickey asked.

‘Not quite, give me a second.’ Ian said, pulling a shirt on as Mickey rolled his eyes and went to open his door.

‘The fuck do you want?’ Mickey asked, glaring at his sister.

‘I was meant to meet Ian at his house so we could go shopping, but he wasn’t there. You want to come instead?’

‘Is all you do shop?’ Mickey muttered.

‘No! Do you want to come though?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

‘Oh. Have you seen Ian?’

‘Uh...’

‘Fixed it. Just needed the thingy to be tightened.’ Ian called, coming from the direction of Mickey’s bathroom.

Mandy narrowed her eyes and pushed past Mickey. ‘Ian! What are you doing here?’

‘Uh, well. You see, Mickey had a leaky tap and asked me to help him fix it.’ Ian said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

‘What do you know about plumbing?’

‘More than Mickey.’ Ian grinned. ‘I forgot about the mall, sorry.’

‘No biggie. Debs said you weren’t home last night?’

‘Uh... Yeah, I uh. I went home with some guy from the club. Stopped past here to help with the tap situation on my way home.’

Mickey shot Ian a look over Mandy’s shoulder. _Shut up, just shut up. Shut up._

‘Ooh, I want details. But later. Let’s go to the mall, yeah?’

‘Yeah, okay. See you later, Mickey.’ Ian said, getting his coat and winking at him as he left Mickey’s apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really interested to know how I ended up writing smut(ish) of my own accord. Must be that 2.30am writing mood... thing.
> 
> Also, if you're enjoying this so far, feel free to leave a comment or stop past my ask on Tumblr at im-not-his-keeper c:
> 
> (Thank you to everyone who has done so already! The support and encouragement I'm getting is absolutely amazing c:)


	6. Boyfriends

It was Monday morning, first period, and the seniors were traipsing in, some half asleep, others looking far too chipper for such a stupid fucking time. The scent of coffee wafted into the room and Mickey hoped that the person carrying it was in his class, because the caffeine in the air was already giving him a bit of a jumpstart and making him feel slightly less dead.

He was sitting at his desk, palms pressed to his eyes, trying to squeeze in a couple of seconds of sleep before he had to stand up and take responsibility for a bunch of teenagers who seemed equally as unimpressed to be there.

Mickey heard the sound of a paper cup being put in front of him. He moved his hands and looked down at the source of the coffee smell, then up to the smiling face of Ian Gallagher.

‘Thought you could use some caffeine.’ Ian said, sipping his own cup.

‘Fucking lifesaver.’ Mickey sighed, grabbing the cup and drinking about a third of the cup in one go. It burned the back of his throat, but he felt a lot better for it. ‘How’d you know how I take it?’

‘I just go by what I assume to be the colour of people’s souls. Black with two sugars for you, because you’re sweeter than you’d let people think.’

Mickey raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh? What’s in your coffee then?’

‘Ah, gingers don’t have souls, you see. I have hot chocolate.’ Ian winked and went down to sit at his desk.

Mickey rolled his eyes and waited for the last of his students to get in before he started the lesson. ‘Morning all. I hope you all had a great weekend and that you’re ready for a week of educational stuff to further your learning, etcetera, etcetera. I’m pretty fucking dead from my weekend, so we’re going to start a movie that’s mildly related to our topic.’ At the news of a movie day – or movie _days_ – a Mexican wave of excited whisperings went through the rows of students. ‘Don’t sound so excited.  Anyone seen _Schindler’s List_?’ A few people raised their hands, and Mickey nodded. ‘Great, because we’re watching that. Someone hit the lights and I’ll get it started.’

A couple of minutes into the film, Mickey’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

 

_a movie day?_

_fuck off gallagher_

_it’s going to be difficult to text you secretly now_

_or you could just not text?_

_booooo! where’s the fun in that?_

_i get to sleep, that’s the fun in this_

_how are you tired_

_well SOMEONE was keeping me awake with dick vids last night until past midnight_

_you’re such an old lady, mick._

_i think midnight is fine for a school night. didn't you say your bedtime was 11.30 anyway?_

_what can i say? i'm a rebel at heart_

_a fact i'm well aware of. now fuck off and let me sleep._

_pffffffffffft party pooper_

_shut up and watch the damn movie, firecrotch_

_firecrotch?_

_firecrotch_

_okay_

Thank God, Ian stopped texting Mickey, which did actually allow him to get some sleep. He hadn’t really had any less than usual, but Mickey was just fucking drained from doing nothing – which was fucking _shit_ , really.

About five minutes before the end of class, Ian did his civic duty and sent a flurry of texts to Mickey to wake him up. He didn’t wake with a start, exactly, but he did raise his head rather quickly from where it had been on his crossed arms. He stopped the movie, made a mental note of where they were, and released his class.

Ian grinned as he walked past Mickey’s desk and out into the corridor. Mickey rolled his eyes in response and put the DVD back in a drawer of his desk. Gallagher had to be one of the least subtle people Mickey had ever come into contact with.

 

* * *

 

Tuesday, Mickey had Ian’s class just before lunch. He decided to give a bit of a lecture surrounding the goings on in the movie, and found himself directing the entire speech to Ian’s corner of the room.

The Gallagher in question had a smirk firmly fixed on his face the entire time, and kept doing things like wink, or stretch his arms above his head, or minutely adjust himself in his seat.

Smug little bastard was going to drive Mickey fucking mental. How dare he be so attractive in his class. That was so rude.

Mickey finished his educational lecture, flipped the lights off, and put the movie back on before he pulled his phone out and started texting under his desk. Again.

 

_can you not do that_

_do what_

_distract me_

_was i distracting you?_

_yes_

_good_

_not good_

_yes good. free tonight?_

_nope there’s a staff function thing on tonight_

_damn. tomorrow?_

_tomorrow._

_wanna get lunch?_

_fuck off that would look suspicious. just wait_

_miiiiiiiiick_

_you’re an impatient little fucker aren’t you_

_yup_

* * *

 

‘Does this seem weird to you?’ Mickey asked. It was the next night, and he and Ian were sitting on his couch watching a movie.

‘No, why would it?’ Ian asked, sipping his beer.

‘It’s one thing to be friends with your teacher, it’s another to hang out with them outside school, then it’s a complete other thing to be fucking them. Doesn’t it bother you?’

Ian raised an eyebrow. ‘Mickey Milkovich has a conscience?’

‘Man, even I never fucked a teacher.’

‘It sounds like you’re trying to drive me away.’

Mickey shook his head. ‘I just don’t get it.’

‘Are you complaining?’

‘Fuck no. Best sex I’ve ever had and I’m not about to give that up.’

Ian grinned. ‘Best sex you’ve ever had?’

‘Don’t let it go to your head.’ Mickey said, elbowing him in the ribs. ‘Really though.’

Ian shrugged. ‘I really like you, Mick. The fact that you’re a few years older than me doesn’t matter to me, and I’m not bothered by you being my teacher.’ he paused thoughtfully. ‘Know how I told you how I’d fucked guys twice your age?’

Mickey scrunched his nose and eyed Ian warily. ‘Yeah... Why?’

‘Once I was kind of half dating, mostly fucking the father of my sister’s boyfriend.’

‘That’s great. Why are you telling me this?’

‘Because I feel like I need something to compare us to. Point being, this feels more much more right than that did.’

‘Probably because I’m not sixty.’

‘Probably.’ Ian sighed. ‘If you want to end this, tell me now, okay?’

Mickey bumped their knees together. ‘I don’t.’ _Not yet._

 

* * *

 

The week went past, and the next, and the next, and Mickey was beginning to feel like he was in danger.

Gallagher had, thankfully, gotten more subtle in the classroom, but had started spending almost every Saturday and most Friday nights at Mickey’s apartment. When Mickey noticed this, he approached Ian about it.

‘You’re spending a lot of time here.’ Mickey said as Ian came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.

‘I like it here. It’s quiet.’ Ian replied, smiling and trailing his fingers across Mickey’s shoulders as he stepped into the bedroom.

‘Where do your siblings think you are?’ Mickey asked, watching as Ian pulled on a pair of jeans.

‘I told them I’m staying with my boyfriend.’ Ian said, so nonchalantly it startled Mickey.

‘Boyfriend?’

Ian turned back around, a smile still in place. ‘Yup.’

‘Am I your boyfriend?’

‘I would like to think so.’

 _Fuck._ ‘You didn’t tell them it’s me, did you?’

‘Nope.’

‘Have you told Mandy?’

Ian stared at Mickey like he’d grown another head. ‘Are you crazy?’

 _Fair point._ ‘Does your family not care who you date?’

‘No, they keep trying to trick me into saying who it is.’ Catching the look on Mickey’s face, Ian rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not stupid enough to fall for it.’

‘So you get that if people found out about us, we’d be fucked.’

‘They wouldn’t care you’re a teacher. They’d be more concerned you’re a Milkovich.’

‘So fucking a teacher is fine, but go near a Milkovich and you’re screwed.’

Ian sighed angrily. ‘Why are you so obsessed with the fact that you’re a teacher and I’m a student?’

‘Because I could get fired and go to prison.’ Mickey hissed. ‘You don’t seem to get that. I’ve been to juvie on more than one occasion, and believe me, it’s not fucking fun, but it’s a barrel of laughs compared to prison.’

‘We just need to keep quiet until I’m eighteen and finish school.’

‘Yeah, and how long is that? We just started the year.’

‘We’ve managed this long. We’ll be fine. Just... stop freaking out.’

‘Hah.’ Mickey scoffed. ‘I can try, but I’m not making promises.’

‘Thank you.’

 _Fucking Gallagher._ Mickey couldn’t leave if he wanted to.


	7. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PROBABLY HAD TOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS

It took Mandy longer than she’d admit to notice something was up with Ian. He was happy all the time, and he had this weird, glassy thing going on with his eyes. It clicked on a Friday afternoon as they were walking out of school and Ian said he was going to spend the night at his boyfriend’s house, grinning and acting all floaty.

‘So you must really like this guy, huh?’ Mandy asked, bumping her shoulder into Ian’s.

‘Yeah, I do.’ Ian said, his grin stretching even further, if that was possible.

‘Ever gonna tell me his name?’

‘Not now.’ Ian sighed. ‘He doesn’t want people to know about us.’

‘Ouch. He’s not married is he? Oh God, _Ian!_ We’ve talked about not screwing married men.’

‘He’s not married.’

‘How old is he? Is he like sixty? Have you got a new sugar daddy?’

‘Um. No.’ Ian’s smile dropped slightly. ‘He’s only a few years older than me. He’s just really closeted, you know?’

‘Oh.’ Mandy was quiet for a few steps. ‘Do you like him though? Like _really_ like him?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you _love_ him?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. Possibly.’

‘Then does it matter if he’s in the closet?’

Ian sighed again. ‘It does to me.’

‘Ay, Mandy!’ A voice behind them called. The pair stopped and turned around, seeing Mickey striding towards them, yanking his bag up onto his shoulder. ‘Need a ride home?’ Mickey asked.

‘Nope, we’re going back to Ian’s to study. Also so he can tell me all about his new sugar daddy.’

Mickey raised an eyebrow and said, ‘Sugar daddy, huh.’

‘Never actually _said_ sugar daddy. And he’s not a sugar daddy.’ Ian said, kicking Mandy’s ankle half heartedly.

‘Whatever. He’s totally in love.’ Mandy said with a smirk.

‘Fuck off.’ Ian muttered, blushing.

‘Aw, Gallagher’s got a crush, huh?’ Mickey readjusted his bag. ‘Got fuckin’ paperwork coming out my ears. Still on for movie day tomorrow?’ he asked Mandy.

‘Yup. You should come too, Ian. That way I have someone to talk to while Mick ignores me and does his _work_.’

‘Fuck off, Mandy. I get paid to give a shit what these dorks write.’ Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘But yeah, Gallagher. Feel free to come.’ he added with a wink when Mandy looked down to check her phone.

‘I will come, thanks.’ Ian laughed.

‘What’s so funny?’ Mandy asked.

‘Oh, just some guy tripped over.’

Mandy seemed to accept that. ‘Kay. We should go. See you tomorrow, Mick.’

‘Yeah, alright.’ Mickey nodded, and walked off to his car. Once inside, he sent a text to Ian.

 

_gonna come are you_

_yup... in your butt_

_that’s the best place for it, yeah_

Ian snorted as he and Mandy walked down the street.

Her eyes flicked to the phone in his hand and she said, ‘Did you hear anything I just said?’

‘Hmm? Yeah. Something about not lending someone your mascara because of pink eye or something?’ Ian asked, smiling guiltily.

Mandy’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re lucky.’

 

_oh i definitely agree_

_coming over tonight?_

_it's friday so i'm working_

_i know i mean after_

_oh yeah i'll be round after :)_

_if you want you can come round for dinner and then i can go with you_

_...that sounds very boyfriendly of you_

_i thought we agreed on that_

‘What are you smiling about?’ Mandy asked suspiciously as they turned the corner onto Ian’s street.

‘Nothing.’

‘Boyfriend texting you?’

‘Yeah.’

 

_yeah but i got the feeling you don’t like being labelled as a boyfriend_

_well apparently i'm your sugar daddy so i think i prefer “boyfriend”_

_yeah me too. you're not rich enough to be a sugar daddy_

_fuck you i'm a teacher. don't exactly having millions lying around_

_yeah that’s true...dw tho, your ass makes up for it ;)_

_super_

‘One of these days, I’m going to steal your phone and find out who it is.’ Mandy said as they dumped their bags and went to find food in Ian’s kitchen.

‘One of these days, I’m going to change the passcode on my phone and not tell you.’

‘Then you’re going to be locked out of your phone for a very long time until you tell me who the bastard making you look so goddamn happy is.’

Ian smiled. ‘No.’

‘I thought we were friends and that you would tell me everything.’ Mandy raised an eyebrow and poked him in the arm.

Ian shrugged. ‘It’s not my place to yank someone out of the closet, Mands.’

‘I suppose... Why would I care though? It’s not like I know him or anything.’

Ian cleared his throat, then mentally punched himself. Possibly one of his biggest tells right there, and Mandy could read him like a book... Usually.

‘Unless I do? Do I know him?’

‘Uh... No.’

Mandy’s eyebrows almost merged with her hair. ‘Oh my God. I do.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘Liar!’ Mandy gasped. ‘Tell me. Tell me tell me tell me.’

‘Nooo.’ Ian backed away. ‘No.’

‘ _Iaaan_.’

‘No. I gotta go to the bathroom. There are poptarts in that cupboard.’ Ian said, pointing randomly into the kitchen. He ran up the stairs and shut the door, pulling his phone out. He changed the passcode quickly, and also Mickey’s name in his contact list from _Mickey :)_ to _Bae ;)_ which he thought was funny, because there was a distinct possibility Mickey would kill him if he ever called him “Bae” to his face.

When Ian got back downstairs, Mandy had a bunch of books out and was pretending to read them. ‘You working tonight?’

‘Yeah, why?’ Ian asked, sitting down at the table.

‘Was wondering if it’d be okay if I tagged along and stayed here tonight.’

‘I’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight, but you’re welcome to stay here anyway in Lip’s old room if you want. Why?’

‘Don’t want to go home tonight. I was gonna stay at Mickey’s, but he said he had someone coming over tonight and I _really_ don’t need to hear that.’

Ian laughed. ‘No, I bet you don’t.’ _Especially not since I’ll be the one responsible for him making that noise._

Mandy grimaced. ‘You’re sure it’s okay for me to stay, though? Even if you won’t be here?’

‘Yeah, Fiona won’t mind. And Debbie loves you, so...’

 

* * *

 

_ay when you coming over_

‘Ian! You got a text!’ Mandy called. Ian was upstairs, taking a quick shower before he left to go to Mickey’s. ‘Iaaan!’

‘Coming!’ Ian called back, throwing on a tee shirt and running downstairs to grab his phone from Mandy before she started trying to get into it.

‘Is it from your boyfrieeeend?’ Mandy asked, trying to steal a glance at Ian’s new passcode.

‘Yup.’ Ian said, sending a quick reply.

 

_leaving home soon so be at yours in about half an hour?_

_okay. what pizza do you want?_

_i don’t care just as long as it’s edible_

_no shit sherlock i thought we were getting pizza to just look at it_

_sarcastic asshole mickey is out to play, huh?_

_sarcastic asshole mickey is always out to play, gallagher_

_good because he’s my favourite_

‘Hey, Mands, I’m gonna go.’ Ian said, slipping his phone into his pocket. ‘We’re getting pizza before I start work.’

‘I’m guessing that when you say “we” you’re not including me in that party.’

‘Not this time. Maybe soon though.’

‘Yeah, it better be soon!’ Mandy said loudly, as Ian left through the front door with a wave in her general direction.

 

_i ordered a meatlovers that okay?_

_can i eat it_

_??? yes???_

_then yeah it’s fine_

_because y’know i won’t eat somethin if there ain’t meat on it_

_yeah it’s fine_

_and bbq sauce_

_you always smell like bbq sauce mick_

_what?_

_it's weird... it’s like i'm fucking a bottle of sauce_

_?_

_do you even use soap or do you just live on bbq sauce_

_uhhh both_

_yeah thought so_

 

* * *

 

Ian arrived at Mickey’s apartment a bit later than he had said he would. When he knocked on the door, it took a few seconds to open, and he was met with Mickey looking unusually hopeful.

And then his face fell.

‘What?’ Ian frowned, moving past Mickey into the apartment.

‘Thought you were the pizza dude.’ Mickey said, watching Ian move around the room. He didn’t look out of place at all, sitting on Mickey’s couch. It was like he was just _meant_ to be there.

‘Am I not as exciting as pizza?’ Ian asked, accepting the beer Mickey handed him.

‘Nope.’ Mickey grinned. ‘Pizza doesn’t criticise my decision to live off barbeque sauce.’

Ian rolled his eyes and there was a knock on the door. ‘Maybe the pizza is here now.’

‘It fuckin’ better be my pizza, or someone’s getting kneecapped.’ Mickey muttered, storming back to the door. He came back a few seconds later, holding a pizza box, and smiling victoriously. ‘Ay, feet off the table.’

Ian pulled his legs back and watched Mickey as he placed the box carefully on the table in front of them and opened the top. Mickey was looking at this damn pizza like it was the second coming of Jesus.

‘Ugh my God, look at this fuckin’ piece of art.’ Mickey said, sighing lovingly at the box. ‘It’s fuckin’ perfect. Look at it, Ian.’

‘Yeah, I see it.’ Ian nodded. ‘Can I eat it now or are you gonna take a photo and Instagram it?’

‘If I had Instagram, I fuckin’ would. Look at it, it’s the most majestic piece of shit I’ve ever seen.’

‘Do you want _me_ to Instagram it for you?’ Ian asked jokingly.

‘That would be great.’ Mickey said, turning to Ian and rolling his eyes sarcastically. ‘Don’t do that, man. Just fuckin’ eat it. Eat it, and destroy the beauty.’

Ian shook his head as he picked up a piece of pizza. ‘You know, I would love it if you would wax poetic about me the same way you do about pizza.’

Mickey shrugged. ‘I dunno, man. Cover yourself in barbeque sauce, and we’ll see what happens.’

 

* * *

 

Things at the club pretty much went the way they always did. Ian danced, Mickey drank, and made sure that no one touched his boyfriend’s dick.

Except, Mickey got a bit hung up on the idea that they were now actually calling each other their boyfriend. He supposed they _were_ boyfriends, seeing as they were having sex on a pretty regular basis, which might’ve just made them fuck buddies, but Ian was also staying at his apartment a few times a week, and Mickey had realised that Ian was leaving bits and pieces behind. There was a bunch of tee shirts Ian had left there (which Mickey would never admit he had started sleeping in – they were bigger than his and really fucking comfy so leave it alone), a pair of jeans had somehow gotten under his bed (weird – Ian had never left without pants on, so he must’ve brought them over with the intention of leaving them behind), there were socks, boxers and a hoodie, too.

But that was just clothes. Clothes could easily be left behind at a person’s house. Ian had also stashed a spare phone charger in the beside table, deodorant and a toothbrush in the bathroom, and even a fucking bar of _soap_ in Mickey’s shower. Mickey hadn’t even realised the soap was there until he picked it up and thought it smelled a bit different than usual, and then noticed that this soap was green, not his bit of white stuff. He figured it was necessary though, because sometimes Ian came to his house on a Friday night, then didn’t leave until Sunday, so it was rational he’d need his own things to keep himself clean.

So yeah, that must’ve made them boyfriends.

Mickey had sort of completely stopped thinking about the implications that this whole thing could have on his job, and realised that, really, he had never actually been that afraid of losing his job. He could stand to not hang around those fucking stupid teenagers, even if he was ridiculously passionate about his subject and wanted to pass that on to a new batch of kids.

No, all Mickey had been scared of was that at some point, he would either find himself swimming in alcohol, because this stupid fucking carrot had gone and broken up with him and essentially broken his heart... _or_ he would find himself in love with said carrot.

And Mickey knew, that if he fell for Ian, he would fall hard, and the ascent back to reality after being dropped would hurt like a motherfucker.

But now, Mickey realised that it was too late for that. He was already gone.

 

* * *

 

They were back at Mickey’s apartment, in bed, and just about to fall asleep when Ian brought up exactly what Mickey had been pondering on at the club.

‘Hey, Mick?’ Ian murmured. ‘You awake still?’

‘Yeah, Firecrotch. I’m awake.’ Mickey shifted from Ian’s arms and rolled over to face him. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was just thinking...’ Ian frowned. ‘What Mandy said earlier...’

‘What, me being your sugar daddy?’

‘No, about me being “totally in love”.’ Ian said, so quietly that Mickey almost missed it.

‘Are we about to have this talk, Gallagher?’ Mickey asked, trying (and failing) not to sound serious.

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay. Go for it.’

‘Well... I think she might be right.’

When Mickey spoke, it came out softly. Not harsh like he was expecting. ‘You think you’re in love with me?’

Ian nodded slowly, once. ‘I was just wondering...’

‘Yeah?’

Ian exhaled, and hoped he wasn’t going to sound fucking cheesy as hell. ‘If I fell... would you fall with me?’

Mickey smiled slightly and whispered (hoping it didn’t sound too gay), ‘I already have.’

 

* * *

 

‘Mandy’s a few minutes away.’ Mickey said, sitting on the floor by the TV, as Ian sat on the couch with a mug of coffee.

‘Okay. I’ll just tell her I turned up early.’ he yawned and took a sip of his drink. ‘What are we supposed to be watching?’

‘It’s my turn to pick, and last time Mandy made me watch like three hours of _Pride and Prejudice_ , and then _Pearl Harbour_ , which was a weird change in mood from each other. But I can’t find the DVDs I want.’ Mickey frowned at the stack in front of him before shoving his arm in the gap under the TV cabinet. His face brightened as his hand touched plastic.

‘What are you even looking for?’ Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘These.’ Mickey grinned triumphantly, holding up three cases. ‘Fuckin’ Mandy must’ve known I’d pick them, so she shoved them under there.’

‘Is that..?’ Ian laughed once, somewhat shocked by Mickey’s choice. ‘ _The Chronicles of Narnia_? Really, Mick?’

‘Skandar Keynes and Ben Barnes? Fuck yeah, Narnia. How is that even a question?’

When there was a knock on the door, Ian rolled his eyes and got up. ‘You sit there with your DVDs, and I’ll go let her in.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Mickey said, smiling at the cases.

Ian pulled open the door, and Mandy was surprised to say the least. ‘Ian! You’re here already?’

‘Yeah, I got here at ten instead of eleven. Mickey typed the time wrong in his text.’ Ian said, shrugging, and moving aside to let her in.

‘Since when do you two text?’ she asked, pulling her coat off and throwing it over a chair in the kitchen.

‘Since yesterday, when you invited him to my house.’ Mickey called from the couch. ‘Get your ass in here, I’m starting Narnia.’

Mandy groaned as she sat in the corner of the couch, beside Mickey, who had taken centre spot. ‘Why do you _always_ pick Narnia?’

‘There are hot dudes in it, get the fuck over yourself.’ Mickey said lightly.

Mandy’s eyes flicked to Ian, who had taken Mickey’s other side on the couch. ‘Does Ian...’

‘Yes, Ian knows Mickey’s gay.’ Ian said, kicking his feet up onto the table.

‘Oh. Okay.’ Mandy said, accepting that without a second thought.

 

* * *

 

As they settled in to watch the movie, Mickey had joined Ian in putting his feet up onto the table in front of them, much to Mandy’s annoyance. She got up partway through _The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe_ to make some popcorn, mostly because it was pretty much lunch time by now, and she was the only one not fully engrossed in the movie.

When she came back, bowl in hand, she hadn’t expected to realise how domestic her brother and best friend looked, sitting on that couch, joined from shoulder all the way down to ankle. She didn’t really think anything of it until she noticed that their fingers were interlaced.

Mandy paused under the arch between the living room and kitchen and stared at their hands, before saying much louder than she had anticipated, ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless self promotion: I'm on Tumblr at im-not-his-keeper.tumblr.com so idk do with that what you will.


	8. Dreaming Of Things Yet To Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title (apart from being oh so relevant) actually comes from 'Bright Lights' by 30 Seconds to Mars. Which you should all go listen to okay yup.

Mickey didn’t know what possessed him to do it. As soon as Mandy disappeared to make popcorn, he had slipped his hand into Ian’s, twined their fingers together, and then made no effort to hide it.

Maybe it was Mickey finally being sick of hiding his relationship with Ian. Maybe it was that little part of him that liked to live on the dangerous side. Maybe he was just a fucking idiot for getting himself into this position in the first place.

Mickey didn’t know what to expect from Mandy when she came back out to see how her brother and best friend were sitting, but at that moment, he gave exactly zero fucks, because Ian was rubbing his thumb in circles over Mickey’s skin, an entire side of their bodies were aligned together, and from the corner of his eye, Mickey could see a smile playing at Gallagher’s lips.

‘You’ve got to be joking.’ Mandy said, standing under the doorway between the kitchen and living room. She was flicking her eyes between their hands and faces, and giving away nothing of how she felt.

How the fuck did she feel? Well for starters, she felt pretty fucking stupid for not having caught on earlier, but what else? She didn’t know.

So Mandy just cleared her throat awkwardly and sat down again. She dumped the bowl of popcorn in Mickey’s lap and tried not to stare at the pair of hands beside it.

The movie ended just in time, because Mandy felt like she was going to explode. As soon as the end credits started rolling, she sat in front of them on the coffee table. ‘I want an explanation.’

Mickey sighed. ‘Yeah, thought you might.’

‘How long has this been going on?’ Mandy asked. ‘Who started it?’

Ian looked thoughtful. ‘I did. And it’s been going on since... end of the second week?’

‘Second week of what? School?’

‘Yeah.’ Ian nodded. ‘Know how you were teasing me about having a sugar daddy?’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘We’ve been over this, Gallagher. Not a sugar daddy.’

‘Holy fucking shit.’ Mandy said, blinking. ‘You’re _legitimately_ dating my brother? You _like_ him?’

‘Yes and uh... yes, but on a larger scale.’ Ian blushed.

Mandy stared at them for a bit longer. ‘Mick, you know you could lose your job, right?’

Mickey nodded. ‘Let’s face it, Mands. This isn’t the most illegal thing I’ve ever done.’

‘Yeah, maybe not, but this is still a pretty big _no._ ’ Mandy shook her head. ‘I think you’re both fucking idiots. The amount of shit you could get into is _huge_.’

‘You’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?’ Ian asked, biting at his lip.

Mickey fought the urge to point out how hot he found that, and instead turned his attention to Mandy. ‘It’s not that big of a deal.’

‘Kinda is, though.’ Mandy said. She looked, and sounded, conflicted about the whole situation. On one hand, she wanted her brother to be happy, which he actually looked like he was, but on the other side, she didn’t want him to lose his only reputable source of income. She sighed as she looked between them. ‘You love each other?’

Mickey nodded tentatively. Ian smiled at Mickey before turning back to his best friend. ‘Yeah.’

‘Okay then. I guess... I’m not gonna stop you.’ Mandy threw her hands in the air and stood. ‘If this goes to shit, I’m not gonna say I told you so. In the mean time, we have two more movies to watch, so can you keep your hands off each other until I leave, or is that gonna be an issue.’

Ian laughed. ‘We’ll be fine.’

 

* * *

 

They were not fine. Definitely not. By the end of the second movie, Ian was having difficulty focussing on the movie, because Mickey was being a little shit, and had his hand _dangerously_ close to Ian’s crotch.

Mickey was drumming his fingers on the inside of Ian’s thigh, a hairsbreadth away from full out brushing against the zip of Ian’s jeans.

Ian, apparently, was quite aware of what Mickey was trying to do, so he murmured, ‘If you don’t move that fucking hand, I’m going to rip it off and shove it up your ass.’

Mandy must’ve heard because, without moving her eyes from the flowing locks of Caspian, said, ‘Please, don’t shove anything up my brother’s ass until I’m at least a mile away from this house.’

Mickey elbowed her in the ribs and glared at her. ‘You’re already making us wait _now_ , so I don’t think you have any right to tell us to wait once the front fucking door is shut.’

Ian snickered. ‘You’re so fucking _needy_.’

‘Aw, guys. Just shut the fuck up.’ Mandy said, holding up a hand to silence them. ‘Keep it in your pants until I’m gone, then feel free to shove your dicks in as many of each other’s orifices as you can.’

Mickey ignored her and moved his hand to rest it a safe distance up Ian’s leg and onto his knee. ‘That better, Firecrotch?’

‘Much. Thank you.’ Ian said, unable to resist the urge to put his hand over Mickey’s.

Mandy made gagging noises and returned her attention to the TV. ‘Okay, Caspian is pretty hot...’

 

* * *

 

They made it through to the end of _The Dawn Treader_ with no accidents, groping, or fingers dangling precariously close to various dicks. Mandy did, however, have to put up with the cutesy couple things that came in their place. Hands stroking knees, fingers basically glued together, and a teeny game of footsies that came when Ian and Mickey started whacking their foot into the other’s to get the same spot on the table’s edge. Mandy couldn’t decide if she would’ve preferred them to just sit there, making out, instead of this crap.

Mickey offered to cook dinner after the movies had finished, and as much as Mandy wanted to leave and get out of their little love bubble, she couldn’t help but accept the invitation. She was curious about this side of her brother.

She had never seen him so completely accepting of himself. He had never had a long term boyfriend – not even a long term _fuck buddy_ – so the fact that he was holding hands and allowing Ian to peck his neck, or the underside of his jaw, was one of the strangest things she had ever seen.

Mickey wasn’t supposed to be soft like this. He wasn’t supposed to be in love with someone, wasn’t supposed to look at someone like they were the sun that came up at dawn, wasn’t supposed to look like he gave a shit about anyone but himself. (Well, and Mandy.)

Mickey was supposed to be as tough as old leather, with a tongue as sharp as nails, and fists harder than diamonds. Mickey Milkovich was a tough motherfucker, womaniser, and all round asshole.

To see how naturally the two opposite ends of the spectrum came to her brother was something Mandy never thought she’d see.

He had never shown any interest in the whole concept of love, and now she thought that maybe he had just been waiting for the right person.

It definitely looked like he had found the right person.

Mandy could only hope she would be as lucky as Mickey and Ian, and find someone to look at her the way they looked at each other, because if she got even half the affection they showed each other, it would already be more than she had ever dreamed of.

 

* * *

 

It felt like a lifetime had passed before Mandy packed up her things, gave Mickey and Ian each a brief hug, and left to go home.

Mickey locked the door then went straight past Ian into the bedroom.

They spent the rest of the night singing their praises to each other and thanking God for the little slice of heaven they had found themselves in.

 

* * *

 

They were brought back down to reality when, as he lay in a pool of cold and drying jizz, Mickey groaned. He half laughed, half sobbed, as he said, ‘I did no fucking work today. I have so much crap to do before Monday I might chop a fucking limb off so I don’t have to go in.’

Ian turned his head to look incredulously at his boyfriend. ‘Are you seriously talking about school right now.’

‘If you knew how much work teachers put into their fucking shit, you would be crying too. It’s basically my entire weekend fucking _gone_ , man.’

‘Yeah, fair enough. But what would you rather be doing, me or paperwork?’ Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Hands down I’d rather be fucking you.’ Mickey said, rolling his eyes at Ian’s triumphant grin. ‘Oh, fuck off, Gallagher. Do me a favour?’

‘Sure.’

‘Save me some time and change the sheets so I’m not lying in jizz for the rest of the week?’

Ian laughed and nodded. ‘I suppose. But not right now, yeah? It’s like 3am and I want to sleep.’

‘Well that’s a fucking surprise.’ Mickey said, scooting onto Ian’s side of the bed.  ‘Sleep then.’

‘I will.’ Ian buried his face into Mickey’s hair, inhaled deeply, exhaled with a sigh, and was asleep moments later.

 

* * *

 

Classes with Ian were no longer fun and something to look forward to. They were torturous for three reasons.

One: Mickey got ridiculously distracted by Ian’s mere presence. He didn’t even have to be doing anything. He just had to be in the same fucking classroom, and Mickey’s entire brain went on holiday. When Ian actively participated in classroom discussions, Mickey had to blink and force himself to respond with something relevant. Not something like “Your hair looks nice today.”, which was a thought Mickey found to be both intrusive and very, _very,_ gay – even for a guy who liked it up the ass as much as he did.

Two: Mickey couldn’t help but think that whenever he saw Gallagher in class, he was wearing far too much clothing. The knowledge of what Ian was hiding under those clothes proved to be a distraction in itself, because Mickey was way too used to watching Ian dance in his little booty shorts, and seeing him wander around his apartment, sometimes completely naked, sometimes in sweats and a tanktop. (Mickey couldn’t decide which he liked better.)

And three: Ian sitting in the back of his class made Mickey realise exactly what he had done. Yeah, he had known what he was getting himself into, and no, he didn’t regret it, he just felt guilty. It was like if he even glanced at Ian for more than a couple of seconds, a spotlight would appear and shine on him, with an accompanying loudspeaker to tell the world that he was fucking a student.

It came to the point when he had never been happier to make the class do silent work. Mickey thought there was a chance he might be able to catch up on paperwork now, but then his phone went off.

Mickey knew it would be from Ian before he even took his phone from his pocket. Of course, the message preview confirmed it was.

 

_hey mick you busy tonight?_

_only paperwork. why?_

_can i come over?_

_...what day is it?_

_friday_

_already?_

_yeah_

_thank god. yeah definitely come over_

_good. know how christmas is coming up in a few weeks?_

_yeah..._

_i was thinking i might give you part of your present early?_

_oh yeah?_

_yeah. wanna know what it is?_

_sure_

Mickey was wondering why it was taking so long for Ian to reply, so he flicked his eyes up, and saw the redhead staring determinedly at his phone under the desk, and typing rapidly. Oh shit. Ian looked up and smiled, quirking an eyebrow before picking his pen up and going back to work. A few moments later, Mickey’s phone went off.

 

_well, i'm gonna start by taking your cock in my mouth and sucking you off like you’ve got diamonds in your balls. while i do that, i'm gonna shove a couple of fingers in your ass and fuck you with those for a little bit to get you good and loose. i'm gonna get my cock rock hard and after you come down my throat, i'm gonna shove my dick in your ass and fuck your hole, and you’re gonna be begging for it like the needy bottom you are. you're gonna come again, without either of us touching your dick, and i'm gonna come inside your ass, and when i pull out, it’s gonna dribble out and down your legs and it’s gonna look fucking hot._

Mickey looked up to see Ian watching him and looking ridiculously pleased with himself. Mickey had never been happier his desk had a front, because otherwise the entire class would’ve been witness to Mickey’s stiffening cock.

 

_jesus gallagher don’t say shit like that to me while we’re at school_

_why? ;)_

_because now i'm gonna be thinking about that until you get to my house and i’m gonna be so fucking hard my balls might explode_

_that, or you’ll be coming like a fucking volcano. down my throat._

_aw fuck you_

_i will later. hard and fast, then slow with a long build up_

_you know i hate slow shit_

_yeah well that needs to change. i will fuck u up, milkovich_

_you already have gallagher_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay that turned out unexpectedly touching at the end???? shit
> 
> anyhoo i'm over at im-not-his-keeper.tumblr.com and yeah drop me a line and let me know what you're thinking if you want c: (i promise that apart from being very sarcastic i am nice)


	9. The Christmas Fandango: Part I

As promised, there was some pretty fucking awesome sex that night.

As Mickey pushed – a rather exhausted – Ian off him, he started laughing quietly.

‘What?’ Ian asked, watching as Mickey’s giggling grew into actual, full blown laughter.

‘Is that all I’m getting for Christmas?’ Mickey grinned. ‘Because I’m okay if it is.’

Ian rolled his eyes and smiled. ‘I did get you something else, but if you’re happy just with the sex, then that’s fine. I’ll regift it. I don’t know, maybe I’ll give it to my brother.’

‘Hey, I never said I didn’t want it.’ Mickey paused. ‘Not that you had to get me anything in the first place.’

‘Yeah, but I wanted to.’ Ian said, rolling over onto his stomach. ‘It seemed like the appropriately boyfriendish thing to do.’

Mickey groaned. ‘Does that mean I gotta get you something?’

Ian shrugged. ‘If you want.’

‘Well, what did you get me?’ Mickey asked.

‘I have it with me if you can’t wait until Christmas.’

‘I can wait.’ Mickey said, wiggling himself under the sheets.

Ian raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, you can, can you.’

Mickey waited a few seconds before he sighed and said, ‘Nope. Where is it?’

‘Uh... Main pocket of my backpack. It’s a little box.’ Ian waved his hand in the vague direction of where his bag was sitting.

Mickey climbed out of bed and went off to rummage through Ian’s bag. The box, covered in fancy black wrapping paper, with an embossed silver pattern on it, weighed more than he expected. He brought it back to the bed and looked uncertainly at Ian. ‘Sure I can open it now?’

Ian nodded. ‘Merry Christmas, Mick.’

Mickey gave a small smile as he carefully unwrapped the box. ‘No fuckin’ way.’ he murmured, taking away the last of the paper and seeing a vaguely familiar logo on the top of the box. He pulled the lid off and gave a low whistle. ‘Bvlgari watch, huh?’

‘Yeah. Thought you could use a new one, seeing as you don’t actually have a watch that’s not on your phone.’

‘Fuck.’ Mickey said, sounding impressed. ‘It’s fuckin’ awesome.’

‘So you like it?’

‘Yeah, man. Thank you.’ Mickey grinned and leaned over to kiss Ian.

‘You’re welcome.’ Ian looked down at the sheets, probably trying to count the threads or some shit. ‘My, uh. My family asked me if my boyfriend was coming around for Christmas dinner. Or lunch. Anything to do with Christmas, really.’

‘What did you tell them?’ Mickey replied, setting the watch carefully on his bedside table.

‘I said my boyfriend was going to be out of town.’

‘Why?’

‘Figured that you wouldn’t appreciate being made to come.’ Ian frowned. ‘Also that you’re, y’know, my History teacher.’

‘Jesus, stop reminding me.’ Mickey groaned, before returning to the original question. ‘What if I wanted to go to your Christmas thing?’

‘Do you?’ Ian asked, raising his eyebrows.

‘I don’t have any better offers. My family doesn’t really do anything. We get together, then get high. The only people that ever bothered with gifts was me and Mandy.’

Ian got up onto one elbow. ‘If you want to come, you can. Mandy is, so you might as well, too. Just... not as my boyfriend.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why would you _want_ to be there as my boyfriend?’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m sick of only having my sister and all the people at the club know about us. Why, you embarrassed of me, Gallagher?’

‘No, why would I be?’

‘Fuck, you tell me.’

Ian sighed. ‘Fine. Do you want to come to the Gallagher Christmas thing as my boyfriend?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fan-fucking-tastic. I’ll tell my sister my boyfriend is coming.’

‘You fucking do that.’ Mickey said, flopping backwards onto the bed as violently as a person can, before he turned to Ian and grinned. ‘Really?’

Ian nodded and grinned back. ‘I don’t see why not.’

 

* * *

 

_hey fi, my bf changed his plans for xmas. still okay if he comes round for lunch or whatever?_

_definitely! we're all super excited to meet this mystery guy of yours. i’m guessing you’re gonna be at his again for the weekend?_

_...maybe_

_aw ian this is so cute. you totally love this guy, don’t you?_

_idk no_

_liar_

_no i just... okay maybe a bit_

_AW IAN_

_fi please don’t_

_pssht no it’s cute :)_

_yeah okay whatever. just don’t get mad? none of you get mad, actually. promise?_

_get mad? why would we get mad? is he married?_

_nope_

_is he older than me? IS HE OLDER THAN FRANK???_

_no and no_

_then there’s no problem, ian. i promise not to get mad_

_thank you. i'll be round tomorrow to get some clean clothes but i'm probably just gonna stay with him for the next few days._

_you're lucky it’s christmas break. see you tomorrow x_

_yep_

‘Yeah, so it’s cool if you come round for Christmas lunch-dinner thing.’ Ian said, putting his phone back on the table beside his morning coffee.

‘Okay.’ Mickey yawned. ‘Wanna shower?’

‘By “shower” do you mean do inappropriate things _in_ the shower?’

‘Obviously.’ Mickey said, rolling his eyes.

‘Well, then obviously yes, I want to shower.’ Ian grinned, standing and following Mickey to the bathroom, shedding clothes on the way.

 

* * *

 

When Ian went off to his house to get some clean clothes, Mickey told him he was going to stay at his apartment and do some paperwork.

Like fuck he was going to do paperwork.

Mickey finally had some time to go Christmas shopping for Ian, seeing as his boyfriend was temporarily unattached from his hip. He waited a few minutes until he was sure that Ian would be clear of his building, threw a coat on, and went off to the nearest mall. That was when he realised he had no fucking clue what to buy Gallagher for Christmas. Expert help would be needed.

 

_ay mandy, you wouldn’t happen to be at the mall, would you._

_surprisingly yes. why?_

_just wondering. WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK_

_jesus calm down. what’s got your panties in a twist?_

_xmas shopping. the fuck do i get ian?_

_hmm. where are you? i'll help you find something._

_food court. hurry the fuck up i have limited time._

_okay okay i'll be right there_

Mickey waited for a good few minutes, resisting the urge to pace up and down in front of a sushi stall. Finally, he spotted Mandy weaving her way through the crowds of last minute shoppers.

‘Hey, Mick!’ Mandy grinned, coming to a halt in front of her brother. ‘So, any ideas what you want to get him?’

‘Not a single fucking clue.’ Mickey said, frowning. ‘You?’

‘Uh... Nope.’ Mandy shrugged. ‘I vote we just drift around and see if we can find anything he might like. Yes?’

‘Yeah, I’m not coming up with any better suggestions.’ Mickey said, following his sister, who had already set off in one direction. If she kept ditching him, this was going to take a long time.

 

* * *

 

It was Christmas Eve before Mickey decided to give Ian his present. They were in bed, it was about five minutes from midnight and turning into Christmas morning, and Mickey and Ian were spooning.

Not like that was anything new. Gallagher had made it his personal mission to make Mickey like cuddling in bed, and as much as Mickey pretended to hate it... he just couldn’t _actually_ bring himself to. The way that Ian possessively wrapped his arm around Mickey’s waist, holding him close. The way that he tucked his face into the juncture between Mickey’s neck and shoulder, and would always kiss that spot right before he fell asleep, and as soon as he woke up. The way that Ian’s legs tangled with Mickey’s own, into an almost indistinguishable mess .

Mickey liked sleeping like this, because he felt safe and secure in Ian’s arms. Fucking sue him.

‘Hey, Firecrotch.’ Mickey said softly. ‘You still with me?’

‘Yeah.’ Ian murmured. ‘What’s up?’

‘It’s about a minute from midnight. Want your Christmas present?’

Mickey felt Ian smile into his skin. ‘Okay. Do you need to move to get it?’

‘Nope.’ Mickey stretched his arm out and pulled a little box from his bedside table drawer and placed it in Ian’s hand. ‘Merry Christmas.’ he smiled, twisting in Ian’s vice-like grip to turn and face him.

In the almost nonexistent light, Mickey watched confusion flit across Ian’s face. He opened the little box and a grin replaced the confusion. ‘This what I think it is?’

‘Depends.’ Mickey said. ‘What do you think it is?’

‘Looks a lot like the key to your apartment.’

‘Then yeah, it’s what you think it is.’ Mickey said nonchalantly. ‘It was nowhere near as expensive as what you got me, but...’

‘It’s fine.’ Ian said, slightly in awe of the little silver key in his hand. ‘I think, to you, this is a pretty big thing to do. Thank you, Mick.’

Mickey shrugged. He wouldn’t say _“It’s not a big deal.”_ Because Ian was right. It was a big deal for Mickey to give a key to his life to someone else. It was Mickey’s way of saying “ _I don’t want you to leave.”_ Of course, he couldn’t say that. Instead, he settled for, ‘You’re welcome.’

Ian grinned and placed a light kiss on Mickey’s lips, before putting the box down beside his phone on the floor. ‘Oh, hey, it’s midnight. Merry Christmas, Mick.’

‘Merry Christmas, Ian.’ Mickey smiled. ‘Sleep time now, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Mickey turned around, back to his original position. He felt Ian get himself back into his position, too, and as Ian placed his little kiss on Mickey’s shoulder, he swore he heard Ian whisper, ‘I love you, Mick.’

 

* * *

 

Mickey didn’t mention it the next day.

Not when they had breakfast. Not when they festively fucked beside Mickey’s sad-looking Christmas tree and ended up smelling like pine. Not when they fucked again in the shower and almost slipped on a bar of soap. Not when they got dressed and threw items of clothing at each other. Not when they went off to the Gallagher’s house, and definitely not when they parked Mickey’s car outside and looked up to the tinsel covered front door.

‘Ready?’ Ian asked.

‘Nope.’ Mickey said, unclicking his seatbelt and getting out.

Ian laughed as he opened his own door. ‘Just don’t say anything about school. Tell them we met at the club.’

Mickey raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, yeah? Embarrassed to be fucking a teacher, huh?’

‘Don’t know how they’d take it. They probably wouldn’t care, but better to be safe than sorry.’ Ian shrugged. Mickey couldn’t argue with that. They walked up the steps and straight into the house. ‘We’re here!’ Ian cried, throwing his coat and scarf over the back of the couch.

‘Hey!’ Fiona said, appearing from the kitchen. ‘Merry Christmas, Ian!’ she hugged her brother and looked over his shoulder to where Mickey was standing awkwardly. ‘Who’s this?’

‘Uh, Fi, this is Mickey.’

‘Boyfriend?’ she asked.

‘Yup.’

‘Oh.’ Fiona smiled. ‘Hi, Mickey.’

‘Ian!’ Debbie’s voice drifted from upstairs. ‘Hi, Ian!’

‘Hey, Debs!’

‘She’s wrapping presents or something.’ Fiona explained, rolling her eyes. ‘Lip and Amanda are on their way. Beer?’

‘Sure.’ Ian nodded. ‘Mick?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Mickey said, rubbing the back of his neck, and following them into the kitchen.

Already sitting around the table was Carl, who seemed to be attempting to make two plastic figures melt together with a lighter, and Liam, who was swinging his fists around with wild abandon. Both were wearing Santa hats, and Fiona herself had pulled on an obnoxious, green and red elf hat.

‘Pick a hat, guys.’ Fiona said, gesturing to the pile on top of the washing machine.

Ian grinned. ‘What do you want, Mick? Antlers, elf or Santa hat?’

‘None of the above?’ Mickey asked, grimacing. ‘I don’t do festive shit like _hats._ ’

‘Wear a hat, or you don’t eat.’ Fiona said cheerfully, passing them each a bottle of beer.

‘Wait, you said none of the above, right? We still got that Mrs Claus bonnet, Fi?’ Ian asked with a laugh.

‘Yeah, no. I’ll take a Santa hat.’ Mickey said, shaking his head and pulling the hat on.

Ian took the antlers and nudged Mickey in the direction of the table. ‘Need any help?’ he asked Fiona.

‘It’s fine.’ Fiona smiled. ‘Everything is under control.’

‘Okay.’ Ian said, sitting down at the table beside Mickey.

A few minutes later, they heard the front door open, followed by a loud cry of, ‘The best Gallagher has arrived!’ and seconds later, Lip and his girlfriend, Amanda, were in the kitchen.  
Fiona hugged them both before turning their attention to Ian and Mickey at the table.

‘Hey, little brother.’ Lip said, coming around to hug Ian briefly.

‘Merry Christmas, Lip.’ Ian said, clearing his throat. ‘This is–’

‘Mickey Milkovich.’ Lip nodded. ‘I know.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's a crapload more to do with this chapter, but I'm breaking it into two parts, so the rest will be the next chapter (that make sense?) because it's 2:45am and I really cbf writing it right now.


	10. The Christmas Fandango: Part II

‘Mickey Milkovich.’ Lip nodded. ‘I know.’

Alarm bells sounded in Mickey’s head. _Shit._ Maybe he had been a bit quick to jump at the chance to have Christmas with the Gallaghers. Yeah, okay, he had wanted to spend the day with Ian – wanted to spend the whole fucking _break_ with Ian – but he forgot that in spending time with the Gallaghers, he would be _spending time with the Gallaghers._ What the hell was he thinking?

Ian’s eyes flicked between his brother and his boyfriend as, apparently, he had been having the same internal meltdown as Mickey. He didn’t really know what to say, so he just opened and shut his mouth a few times, in a manner not unlike that of a goldfish, and sat back down.

Which was when Fiona rejoined the conversation. ‘Mickey Milkovich?’

‘Yeah.’ Lip said, glancing at the distinctive knuckle tattoos. ‘Definitely.’

Fiona narrowed her eyes as she looked between Ian and Mickey. She pursed her lips and said, ‘A gay Milkovich. Who’d have guessed.’

‘Ian, can we talk for a second?’ Lip said, jerking his head towards the stairs.

Ian nodded and stood again, walking up the stairs and into his bedroom – Lip’s old one. He turned around as he heard Lip step inside. ‘What.’

‘Dude, that’s Mickey Milkovich.’ Lip whisper-yelled. ‘What the fuck are you doing with a Milkovich?’

‘I like him.’ Ian replied. ‘He’s a great guy and he makes me happy.’

Lip raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s a dangerous guy, Ian. All that he’s gonna do it fucking _ruin_ you. Either emotionally or physically. Maybe both. His dad was the biggest fag basher in the fucking city while he was still alive. Some of that’s gonna have rubbed off on him.’

‘Did you happen to notice the part where I’m dating him? Seriously, what’s he gonna do, beat me up because he likes dick that much? Go all “if I can’t have that dick, no one can”?’

‘Probably.’

‘Probably _not._ He’s gay, I’m gay, we’re together, and you can get the fuck over it.’ Ian hissed, pushing past his brother and going back down to the kitchen.

As Ian straightened his antlers and sat back down to sip calmly at his beer, Mickey elbowed him and murmured, ‘Your brother still as big of an asshole as I remember him?’

Ian nodded and gripped Mickey’s hand under the table. ‘It’s gonna be a long day.’

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, Lip didn’t actually say _anything._ Well, for the most part he didn’t. He spent a large portion of the day staring at Mickey and Ian across the room. When everyone was in the Gallagher house, they exchanged small presents before venturing to where the table had been set up with places for all the Gallaghers (sans Frank – he was probably out under the El with a bottle of something his doctors would frown upon), JimmySteve, Sheila, Kev and Vee, Mandy, and Mickey.

 _That_ was when Lip decided to say something. It must’ve been burning inside his head the whole day. ‘So, Mickey,’ Lip started, sounding the very definition of _casual_. ‘I heard you’re a teacher nowadays.’

‘Um... yeah.’ Mickey said, distracted by Ian’s nails digging painfully into his thigh. He shot a look at his antlered partner.

‘What do you teach, Mickey?’ Fiona asked, actually sounding interested, as she spooned peas onto an unimpressed-Carl’s plate.

‘History.’ Mickey said, that light entering his voice that appeared whenever he talked about his beloved subject.

‘Oh really?’ Fiona said, surprised. ‘Don’t you take History, Ian?’

‘Yup. Fascinating subject, that.’

‘Fuck off.’ Mickey said, giving Ian a backhanded slap across the chest. ‘That’s my livelihood you’re talking about right there.’

‘Interesting you should mention that, Mickey.’ Lip said, drowning his food in gravy, much to the disgust of Amanda. ‘I also heard you teach at our old school, the one where Ian goes.’

‘I do.’ Mickey said carefully.

‘Are you his teacher?’ Fiona asked, catching onto what Lip was getting at.

‘Uhhhhh...’ Mickey stared at his food, counting the number of corn kernels he had mixed in with his peas.

Fiona took both his and Ian’s silence as an admission of guilt and looked set to unleash hell on the pair when JimmySteve put a calming hand on her arm and said, ‘I personally prefer the idea of Ian screwing a teacher over him screwing my Dad. It’s not that big of a deal, really.’

A small, ‘Oh.’ came from Carl, and everyone looked towards where he was sitting between Debbie and Amanda as he said, ‘So “Your dick’s in my dad’s mouth” _isn’t_ just an expression? Ian’s dick was in your dad’s mouth? Like for real?’

JimmySteve physically repressed a shudder as he cleared his throat. ‘Can we change the subject? Yes, Ian is probably fucking his teacher, but why is that a bad thing? Didn’t we all have teachers we wanted to fuck at school? Ian just made it happen. Good for him, I say. Pass the potatoes?’

And with that, JimmySteve effectively ended the entire line of discussion about that topic. He had also managed to bring Fiona down from what may or may not have been the verge of murder. It probably was. Ian knew there was a high chance she wouldn’t approve of their not-strictly-educational relationship, but he also knew she wouldn’t get the school involved. If Fiona wanted to do anything about him and Mickey, she would do it herself.

The conversation over the Christmas late lunch/dinner soon broke up into smaller sections as the food was finished, and then little groups drifted off to parts of the house until it was dark.

Mickey didn’t know what the fuck they were waiting for, because he wanted to go home and get away from the accusing glares of Lip and Fiona, who seemed to be the only ones who had a problem with him.

Mandy jumped onto him and Ian sitting on one of the Gallaghers’ armchairs, creating a three person pile up, and joined in their conversation with Carl about the best usage of nunchucks. (Even though she claimed they were stupid and more likely to hit _you_ that whoever you were facing off against.) (Ian secretly agreed, though he’d never tell Mickey that, because his boyfriend was quite fond of them.)

Finally, when it was deemed dark enough for whatever the fuck the Gallaghers had planned, coats, scarves and beanies were tugged on, and the amalgamation of Gallaghers – both real and honourary – all trooped outside to sit on the couches arranged in the backyard.

Ian and Mickey sat squished into a corner, hands firmly gripping each other. ‘What the fuck is happening?’ Mickey muttered, watching cautiously as Carl darted under the house then came back out and dumped some stuff on the ground near where Lip (or maybe JimmySteve?) was standing.

‘Just go with it.’ Ian muttered back, giving Mickey’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

A few moments later, Mickey’s curiosity was quenched when there was a high pitched squeal, and bright colours exploded in the sky overhead. He turned to Ian, prepared to ask him a question, but was sidetracked by the look of childish awe and glee on Ian’s face, the bursts of sparks reflected in Ian’s eyes. Mickey smiled as he thought how beautiful Ian looked at that moment.

‘The best ones are still to come.’ Ian said, turning to face Mickey, and instead feeling lips on his own. He promptly forgot the rest of what he had planned to say, as he kissed Mickey under the fireworks, not even caring they were missing the best ones.

As far as they were both concerned, _this_ was the best part of the night.

It turned out that chilly air, five hundred layers of clothing, and a damp couch could be surprisingly romantic when there were fireworks overhead. Even if every other person there was watching them, they didn’t know, or care, because right there and then, that moment was perfect.


	11. Love, Actually, Is All Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES CHAPTER TITLE IS FROM LOVE ACTUALLY.

After the fireworks were all gone, and trails of smoke were dissipating into the sky, the group of Gallaghers went back inside. It was fucking freezing, so hot chocolate was called for, and made as swiftly as possible to start warming everyone up before they developed hypothermia.

As mugs were emptied, Fiona took Liam up to bed, Kev and Vee disappeared home, Lip and Amanda left, and Mandy decided she was staying at Mickey’s for the night.

For as long as Mickey had had his own apartment, he had told Mandy that she could stay in his spare room as often as she wanted, so despite how much he wanted to have only Ian staying with him, he nodded. No one should have to spend Christmas alone, especially when it was just because their older brother wanted to fuck his boyfriend as loud as he could in order to piss of his neighbours. Mickey decided there would be plenty of time for that another day.

Mandy smiled and said, ‘Good, because you didn’t really have a choice in the matter anyway.’

‘Super.’ Mickey said, rolling his eyes. ‘Shall we go?’

Ian nodded. ‘I’ll just say goodbye to everyone then we can leave.’

‘Kay.’ Mickey nodded, bundling himself up in his coat and scarf.

Ian bumped into Fiona just as he was starting up the stairs, and she came back down. ‘Hey, uh, we’re leaving now, so I thought I’d say bye.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ Fiona smiled and pulled Ian into her arms. ‘You can always just stay here tonight..?’

Ian cleared his throat. ‘No, I don’t think you would want us to.’

‘I didn’t mean Mickey.’ Fiona said, releasing Ian and crossing her arms over her chest. ‘I don’t think you should be getting involved with him. I know that he’s changed his ways and all that, but he’s still a Milkovich, and that’s something you can’t just wash off with a few years of higher education and a History degree.’

‘Fi, you don’t–’ Ian started.

Fiona cut him off with a wave of her hand. ‘Don’t know him like you do, I realise. But you’re the one _in_ the relationship, so you’re blinded to what everyone else sees. Look, I’m not going to actively make you break up with him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t voice my opinions and advice.’

Ian sighed. ‘What’s your opinion and advice, then?’ he asked monotonously, knowing full well of her answer.

‘He’s going to hurt you, and when he does, it’s gonna be the worst thing you’ll ever go through. I can see how deep you are in with him, and yeah okay, it’s a beautiful thing the love that’s obviously between you two, but you – as a couple – are going to end.’ Fiona shrugged. ‘I think you should cut it off now and cauterise the wound while you’re not in danger of losing too much.’

‘So what you’re saying is you want me to break it off before he does.’ Ian summarised.

 ‘I know you won’t because you’re a stubborn asshole most of the time, but I think it’s for the best.’ Fiona nodded. ‘But, whatever. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Ian muttered, looking down to his scuffed shoes, then back up to his sister’s concerned face. ‘I should get going, but I’ll probably be around tomorrow to get some more clothes.’

‘Okay. Bye, Ian.’ Fiona said, giving him a last, fleeting hug. ‘Drive safe.’

‘Yeah, will do. Later, Fi.’ Ian said, giving a small smile and turning back into the living room. He gave Debbie and Carl each a kiss on the head before waving to them and trooping out the door after Mickey and Mandy.

 

* * *

 

It was quiet on the drive back to Mickey’s apartment. For about two minutes.

‘What was your sister talking to you about?’ Mickey asked, eyes briefly flicking to Ian in the seat next to him.

 _Tell him or don’t tell him? Ugh, doesn’t make a difference._ ‘She thinks I should break up with you.’ Ian said honestly.

‘Oh, yeah? What do you think about that?’

‘They’re my family, and they’re only looking out for me, but I’m choosing to completely ignore their advice.’

‘Well that works out well for everyone, doesn’t it?’

‘Yeah... but I’m only ignoring it because I like the little noises you make when we fuck. Otherwise I’d already have dumped you.’ Ian grinned.

‘You like the little noises, huh.’ Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Should we be super loud tonight, then?’

‘Ew. No. Not while I’m there.’ Mandy piped up from the backseat.

 _Shit._ Mickey blushed, forgetting his sister was there, but recovered quickly. ‘My fuckin’ house, I’ll do what I want.’

Mandy grimaced. ‘Fine, I’ll make you a deal, then.’

‘Oh?’

‘You two can fuck all night, as loud as you want, and I won’t complain. I’ll even run for the toilet if I feel like I’m gonna puke, _buuut_ you two have to do something for me, too.’

Ian and Mickey shot each other a look. This seemed like a fair compromise so far. ‘What’s the catch?’ Ian asked, turning to his best friend.

‘You two have to watch _Love Actually_ with me.’ Mandy said, grinning as Mickey groaned.

‘I fuckin’ _hate_ that movie.’ Mickey said, narrowing his eyes at his sister in the mirror.

‘Yeah, you do.’ Mandy nodded. ‘And I don’t like hearing how great it feels having Ian’s dick shoved up your ass. Looks like both of us are gonna do what we gotta, huh?’

Mickey was thankful for the darkness of the car as he went a deeper shade of red. ‘What makes you think I bottom?’

Mandy cleared her throat dramatically, and sat up straighter as she adopted a formal tone. ‘You see, brother mine, I was once rooting around in your room, looking for a clean shirt to borrow, when I came across a small box. Inside of which were a few things I was mostly horrified to have stumbled across – a selection of butt plugs and dildos, my dear brother.’

‘Doesn’t automatically mean I bottom.’ Mickey muttered.

Ian gave a gasp of recognition. ‘Is that what you meant?’ he asked Mickey, looking at him, open-mouthed.

‘Is what what I meant?’ Mickey said defensively.

‘The first night we – Mandy cover your ears. The first night we fucked, right, you said you were probably still kinda loose from the night before, but you said you weren’t fucking anyone.’ Ian poked him in the shoulder as they rounded onto Mickey’s street. ‘Is that what you meant?’

Mickey double checked Mandy wasn’t listening (she wasn’t – fingers were in her ears and she was singing “lalala” at an almost obnoxiously loud volume) and said, ‘Yeah, okay, I was. To be fair, I never got much action before you strolled into my bed. Those fuckin’ things saw a lot more of my ass than anyone else.’

‘Wow, okay, probably shoud’ve waited for an “all clear!” before I came back into the conversation.’ Mandy said, wrinkling her nose.

Mickey rolled his eyes and pulled into his parking spot. ‘Oh, fuck off. I don’t give a shit anymore.’

‘Yeah, okay, whatever.’ Mandy said, climbing out of the car and heading off up to Mickey’s apartment.

 

* * *

 

_I feel it in my fingers,_   
_I feel it in my toes._   
_Christmas is all around me,_   
_And so the feeling grows._

‘This movie is fuckin’ weird.’ Mickey said, watching as Bill Nighy proceeded to strip himself of clothes and dance naked behind a guitar.

‘This movie is the best thing ever.’ Mandy said, punching him in the arm.

‘Yeah, Mick, I’m gonna have to go with Mandy on this one.’ Ian nodded. ‘This movie is pretty great.’

Mickey scowled at Ian. ‘You’re an asshole. You’re meant to agree with me.’

‘Any other movie, I would.’ Ian shrugged. ‘Why do you even own this movie if you hate it so much?’

‘No fucking clue.’

Ian laughed. ‘Well, it’s over halfway now, okay? Hang in there.’

‘Hah.’ Mickey shook his head and twisted in his spot in a corner of the couch, so his feet were hanging over the edge and his head was in Ian’s lap. ‘Wake me up when the movie is over.’

Ian smiled down at Mickey as he closed his eyes. ‘Yeah, okay.’ Ian murmured.

As Ian started slowly and softly running his fingers through his hair, Mickey started forming a protest in his mouth. He quickly dismissed it after realising it was kinda nice, so instead, he made a low noise of contentment in his throat and allowed a small smile. He must’ve drifted off quite quickly, because the next thing he knew, he was gently being jostled awake by Ian.

‘Mick, the movie finished.’

‘Mm, kay.’ Mickey said groggily, opening his eyes. He looked up, straight into Ian’s face. ‘Hey.’

Ian grinned. ‘Hey. Bed?’

‘Bed.’ Mickey agreed, pushing himself off Ian’s legs. ‘Man, didn’t even realise how tired I was.’

‘It’s fine. You didn’t drool on me, so that’s something.’

‘When have I ever drooled on you?’

‘You sleep with your head on my chest sometimes.’ Ian said, standing. ‘You drool on me when that happens.’

‘Aw, fuck.’ Mickey said, hauling himself off the couch. ‘Why’d you never say anything?’ he called back over his shoulder, as he headed off to brush him teeth.

‘Because it’s kinda cute when you sleep on me.’ Ian smiled, following Mickey.

‘Shut the fuck up, man. It sounds gross.’

‘Nah, I’ve had worse bodily fluids on me than drool, Mick.’ Ian said, reaching in front of his boyfriend to grab his toothbrush.

‘That’s disgusting.’ Mandy commented, coming to join them and swiping the toothpaste from Ian’s hand.

Mickey gave her a pointed glare in the mirror as he started brushing his teeth with more force than was strictly necessary. Ian raised his eyebrow back at Mickey and shook his head. He put his free hand on Mickey’s waist and started rubbing small circles into it with his thumb, calming Mickey down from the point of strangling his sister.

They all finished brushing their teeth, with no accidents, and went off to their separate bedrooms.

Once Ian had shut the door, Mickey stripped off down to just his boxers and climbed into bed. ‘Hurry up, man. I wanna go to sleep. I’m fuckin’ spent.’

‘Okay.’ Ian said, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing his pants onto the chair in the corner. ‘Sleepy time for Mick and Ian.’

‘Yup.’ Mickey sighed, curling into Ian’s side once he was in bed. ‘I had fun today. With your family. Even if they hate me.’

‘They don’t _hate_ you. They just don’t think you’re good for me.’ Ian stroked his hands down Mickey’s back. ‘For the record, I disagree.’

Mickey chewed his lip as he thought about what he was going to say to that. ‘What if they’re not, though?’

‘What do you mean?’ Ian asked.

‘What if they’re right, and I’m not good for you? We don’t know what we’re gonna be like in a few weeks, or months, or _years_. What if I do end up hurting you? You’ll have wasted all this time investing in this for nothing.’

Ian shrugged. ‘I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I like what we have now, I like _you_.’

‘Thought you said you loved me?’

‘What?’

‘Last night before you fell asleep. You said you loved me.’

Ian was quiet for a few moments. ‘I thought you were asleep.’

‘So wouldn’t have said it to me while I was conscious?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not? You seem to actively avoid any and all conversations to do with feelings, Mick.’

Mickey pondered on the truth of that for a bit, before asking, ‘Do you, though?’

‘Do I love you?’ Ian clarified. ‘Yeah, I do.’

‘Good, because I love you too.’ _Now we’re in the shit._

‘Really?’ Ian asked, sounding shocked.

‘Yeah, and this is the only time I’m gonna say it for the foreseeable future, so enjoy the moment.’ Mickey sighed, snuggling closer to Ian’s chest. ‘Now shut the fuck up so we can sleep, okay.’

‘Okay. Night, babe.’

‘Babe?’

‘Yeah, babe. No?’

‘No.’

‘Kay.’ Ian giggled. ‘Night, Mick.’

‘Night, Ian.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11 chapters in and i still have no idea what the fuck i'm doing with this.
> 
> bear with me.


	12. Cards Have Been Laid Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Emmanuel' by Basecamp. Which I'm listening to right now, and that line just played so idk title yay.
> 
> And, uh, sorry it's only a tiny chapter. I just wanted to progress the story a wee bit more so I have something to bounce off tomorrow c:

As the three of them ate breakfast the next morning, Mickey kept sneaking little glances at Ian across the table. He seemed happier than he usually was, and Mickey thought that would be, at least in part, because Mickey had finally used the “L” word.

He had known it for a while, that he loved Ian. He wasn’t exactly running away from it, but he hadn’t really wanted to acknowledge it, either. Mickey didn’t want to say something he couldn’t take back, and “love” was not a word he used lightly, so in admitting it to Ian last night, he was laying himself on the line, and baring his soul in a way he hated. Mickey had always considered love to be a weakness. If you loved something, you would do anything for it, and he had always been taught that you put yourself first, because love wasn’t going to save you. It would only ever hurt you.

So Mickey now had this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a roiling ball of uncertainty and indecisiveness. He could choose to ignore it, or he could choose to listen to it.

Looking at Ian across the table, he realised he loved Ian more than a lot of things, and he knew that the feeling would only grow, until he needed Ian to survive, and this redheaded boy would turn into a redheaded man that was more vital in Mickey’s life than oxygen.

But Mickey wanted more for Ian. More than he could offer him, _better_ than he could offer him, and that thought caused the feeling to intensify. He would’ve given his left nut for someone else to make this Goddamn decision, because Mickey wanted no part in it.

Would he be selfish, make Ian suffer because of what he could never be, but love him in his own stunted way? Or would he do the right thing and let Ian go, so he could find a man he deserved, who could be his everything?

‘Mick, you okay?’ Ian asked, concern knitting his brow, spoonful of Cheerios frozen halfway to his mouth. ‘You don’t look good.’

‘I’m fine.’ Mickey said, biting at his bottom lip before going back to his Lucky Charms.

‘Sure?’ Ian reached out, took Mickey’s hand, rubbed soothing circles into his knuckles. The boy was in deeper than Mickey was himself.

‘Yeah.’ Mickey nodded, giving a weak smile. ‘Just a bit tired still.’

Ian nodded and returned the smile. ‘You’re such an old lady.’

‘Yeah, but I’m a _hot_ old lady.’

‘I agree.’ Ian laughed, leaning over to peck Mickey’s temple.

That was when the indecision came to a stop. Mickey loved Ian more than everything.

He knew what he had to do.


	13. I Will End Where I Began

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Dear Agony' by Breaking Benjamin.
> 
> If you really feel like crying, I recommend listening to that song while you read this. (Unless you're really easily affected by things then idk maybe don't???)

 Ian sat Mickey down on a Wednesday.

‘You’ve been acting really weird recently, Mick.’ Ian said, pushing Mickey onto the couch, and sitting in front of him on the coffee table. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing.’ Mickey mumbled, looking down to his hands.

‘You’re lying to me.’

‘Says who?’

‘It’s pretty obvious, Mick. I can see it written all over your face.’ Instead of getting angry, Ian just leaned forward and took Mickey’s hands in his own, concern plain on his own face. ‘What’s up?’

Mickey took a deep breath, looked up to Ian’s eyes, looked back down to where their hands were joined. ‘I can’t.’

‘Can’t what?’ Ian pressed. ‘Mick, are you okay?’

‘No.’ Mickey shook his head and pulled his hands from Ian’s grasp. He stood up and walked over to the small window next to his TV.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I...’ Mickey ran a hand through his hair as he started pacing. _Time to grow a pair._ ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

‘Mick?’

‘I can’t.’ Mickey repeated, hearing Ian get up and walk over to where he was. ‘I can’t.’

‘I’m going to need something more to go on than that, Mick.’ Ian murmured.

‘Us. We. You. Me.’ Mickey shook his head again. ‘I can’t do this to you.’

‘Do what?’ Ian said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

‘Me. I can’t do me to you. I can’t let you settle for me. You deserve more than what I can give you, Ian. You deserve better.’ Mickey wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep himself from physically falling apart, and shattering completely.

Ian’s heart stopped. He stumbled backwards automatically in a vain attempt to distance himself from the situation. ‘No,’ he said, voice almost inaudible. ‘No. You can’t do this to me.’

Mickey screwed shut his eyes and turned his head away from Ian. ‘You need what I can’t give you. This is it for me, this is all I can ever be, and you deserve more than my piss poor excuse of a life. You’re still young, you can find someone who can look after you so much better than I can.’

‘Mick, you can’t.’ Ian’s voice trembled. ‘No, no, please. You’re all I want. You’re everything I want. You’re perf–’

‘I’m not perfect. I’m not perfect for you, you’re not perfect for me, we’re not perfect, period.’ _Lies._

‘I don’t need someone better, I need someone who loves me like you do, I need _you_.’

‘No, you don’t. You don’t know what you need. You’re not even eighteen yet, Ian. There’s a whole world of possibilities out there for you, and you need to take advantage of them. I’m not it for you. I’m not... I’m not good for you.’

‘Yes, you are. You’re all I need.’

‘No.’ Mickey still hadn’t opened his eyes. Didn’t want to see this redheaded man revert into a broken, redheaded boy because of him.

‘Please, Mick. Don’t do this. Don’t break up with me.’ Ian’s voice had shrunk into a tiny whisper as he fought down the sobs building in his chest.

‘I have to. I can’t do this anymore.’

‘Please, Mick.’ Ian tried a last ditch attempt. ‘I love you.’

‘No. Please. Don’t make this any harder for either of us. I’ve made up my mind, you’re not going to change it.’ Mickey pulled his arms tighter across his chest.

‘Then at least tell me what I did wrong.’

‘Nothing. This is on me.’

‘I–’

‘Ian, just go.’ Mickey said, trying to sound strong and assertive, instead sounding like he had lost his voice.

‘Mick...’

‘Go.’ Mickey repeated, dropping his head until his chin touched his chest. He didn’t want Ian to see him, Mickey Milkovich, cry.

Ian had given up. He nodded, despite knowing Mickey couldn’t see. ‘Okay.’

Mickey waited until he heard his front door shut before he moved even an inch. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, blinking furiously to get used to the light again. Ian wasn’t in the living room, wasn’t in the kitchen, not the bedroom or bathroom. He had actually gone.

Not like Mickey had been expecting him to stay and fight.

Well, he had. _Why hadn’t he fought?_

Mickey felt like part of his soul had just been ripped away, and now, here he was – the broken, bloody remains. He walked backwards until he felt the wall against his shoulder blades, and slid down.

He remembered hearing once how cows went through a sort of hugging machine before getting slaughtered, because hugs, or the pressure that came with them, at least, was supposed to calm them down, relax them, and slow their heartbeat.

As this thought passed aimlessly through his brain, Mickey forced his arms back around his torso, applying as much pressure as he could muster. It didn’t help keep Mickey from collapsing sideways and curling into the foetal position.

Mickey had never been one to cry, but now he found himself sobbing as he came to terms with what he had done.

There was nothing left. Maybe over time, he would come to feel nothing, but right now, all he felt was agony, and it consumed him, forcing gasping breaths from his lungs, and streams of tears from his eyes.

He supposed he deserved to suffer for this, and he wouldn’t say he was happy to, but he definitely felt he deserved it. Pain was an emotion he understood. It made sense. Told you when you had done something wrong. But was he wrong to let Ian go?

_No, he needs more than me. He needs everything I can’t give him. This is how it has to be._

 

* * *

 

There was a persistent knocking on his door, but Mickey didn’t care. He wasn’t going to move for anything, or anyone.

But that was okay, because they had a key.

‘Mick?’ Mandy called out softly. ‘Are you here?’ A pair of shoes were taken off, gently placed together beside his door, and Mickey heard his sister walk carefully further into his apartment. ‘Ian told me what happened.’

A light switch was flicked, and suddenly Mickey could see again. Weird. He thought he had had his eyes closed, but apparently it had just gotten dark.

‘Mick?’ Mandy said again. She must’ve come into the living room, because there was a little sigh, and the sound of a jacket and bag being dropped onto Mickey’s shabby old armchair. ‘Oh, Mickey.’

The view in front of Mickey changed from the depressing state of uncleanness under his couch, to his sister’s purple and black striped, socked feet.

‘Fuck off.’ he said, trying to sound intimidating. It wasn’t. His voice was a croak, and cracked on the last word.

Mandy sighed and crouched down. ‘Are you going to get up?’

‘I’m not moving. I’m staying here.’

‘Okay.’ Mandy said, lying on the carpet beside him. She curled up in a similar position to him, grabbed his hand, and held it.

Mickey looked up to their hands, then to his sister’s eyes, so full of concern. His lip trembled, and his fragile resolve cracked.

Mandy didn’t say anything. Just held his hand, pulled him closer when he allowed her to, and let him lie on his floor and stain the carpet with salt water.


	14. The Light Has Fallen From The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Circles' by Greta Svabo Bech (the vocal remix of 'Experience' by Ludovico Einaudi). (Both of which are amazing songs, so hit them up on Spotify. Or YouTube. Definitely Spotify.)
> 
> Anyway, this is the twin chapter to the previous one ("I Will End Where I Began") and is from Ian's P.O.V. There's minimal overlap, so it won't be like re-reading the other chapter all over again.

 ‘Ian, just go.’

‘Mick...’ Ian said helplessly.

‘Go.’ Mickey repeated, moving his head until his eyes were parallel with the floor.

Ian nodded. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it. ‘Okay.’ He murmured, trying to keep his voice steady, and act like his world wasn’t falling apart.

He went into the bedroom, grabbed his bag, and shoved his things roughly into it. He pulled the straps over his shoulders, shoved his feet into his boots, and left Mickey’s apartment, gently closing the door on the man he loved.

Ian moved slowly, for fear he would walk into something while his vision was blurred with the tears he refused to allow the freedom to fall. He didn’t know where he was going, but it wasn’t home. He didn’t want to give his family the satisfaction of being right about Mickey. He should’ve listened to them. God knows it probably would’ve hurt less if he had been the one to cut things off, just like Fiona had told him to.

Ian wondered what Mickey was doing. He was probably sitting at home, drinking a beer and watching TV, like he was completely unaffected by the whole situation. He was not exactly a person who was in touch with his feelings, preferring to shove it all under a mental rug, and ignore the lumps forming. This, Ian thought, was something that would be swept under with all of Mickey’s other problems.

And so, Ian walked.

He found himself at the Fairytale, so he went in – despite not having a shift to work, and sat at the bar, wallowing in a mix of self pity and his own thoughts.

Mickey had no idea what he meant to Ian – and where the hell did he get off saying, _“I’m not good for you.”_ when he clearly had no fucking idea what Ian wanted, what Ian _needed_ , and what was good for him or not.

Ian had no intention of telling anyone what had happened, didn’t want them to say _“I told you so!”_ but he couldn’t keep this to himself. Someone would find out sooner or later, so he did the rational thing and sent a text to his best friend.

 

_he did it. mands, he did it. he broke up with me._

_oh my god are you okay???_

_no_

_where are you?_

_away_

_not doing anything stupid?_

_hah_

_ian..._

He didn’t care. What Mandy thought, what his family thought, what _Mickey_ thought. Ian needed to be separate from his world for just a little while, where they couldn’t find him and couldn’t touch him.

Self destruction had always been one of Ian’s favourite hobbies, and he would be damned if he wouldn’t indulge in it now. Ian downed alcohol like it was water and he was a man dying of thirst.

He had wanted to fight for Mickey, make him see what he was doing to them both, but he knew there was nothing he could have done to change his mind. Trying to change Mickey’s mind once he had decided on something was like trying to teach an inanimate object to speak – there was no fucking way anything was going to happen.

But no. Mickey had decided Ian deserved more, so he had dropped him, and as the alcohol took effect, Ian felt nothing. Everything had just burned down around him. It had all been razed to the ground, and nothing would be rebuilt.

Mickey wasn’t going to just crawl back to Ian and beg for forgiveness, and Ian sure as hell wouldn’t crawl back to him.

Mickey had hurt him, cut into his soul without a second thought, because Ian deserved more? If Ian had agreed, he would have left already with no sign of remorse. He had done it before, and he wouldn’t have a problem doing it again.

Ian loved Mickey with everything he had, and apparently, it didn’t matter.

So, Ian turned his phone off, drank until he couldn’t remember his own name, and left.

He didn’t know where he was going, but his family thought he was staying with Mickey for the next few days, and weren’t expecting to see him until at least Sunday.

By then, Ian would be long gone.


	15. Stand Up And Scream, Are You Ready?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Are You Ready' by Three Days Grace. (Yes, I use a lot of song lyrics as chapter titles.)

Mickey didn’t know how long Mandy lay with him on the floor. He didn’t know how long it took for his tear ducts to finally dry up. He didn’t know anything anymore.

This was definitely one of the worst decisions he had ever made, which was saying a lot, considering his background, and the only thing he held onto that gave him a sliver of comfort, was the reminder that he had done this for Ian.

 _Ian deserves more. Ian needs more. Ian can do better._ Mickey repeated it over in his head like a mantra.

Mandy didn’t say anything as she curled herself around Mickey, pulling his head into her shoulder, and folding her arms across his back. She just let him cry, until he was exhausted from his body shaking, and the sobs that he couldn’t force down.

He clutched at her sweater with weak fingers, unable to find purchase. There was nothing left that Mickey could give of himself to Ian. Even if he wanted to take it all back, which he did – undeniably – he doubted Ian would accept it.

After a while, Mickey’s breathing returned to normal, only with the occasional hitch in it, and Mandy loosened her grip slightly. ‘Are you okay, Mick?’

‘Why the fuck would I be?’ he asked, keeping his voice only just above a whisper, trying to avoid having it betray him by cracking again.

Mandy sighed. ‘Are you better than you were when I arrived?’

‘No. I broke up with Ian. Unless that’s changed, I’m not better.’

‘If you feel so shit about it, why did you do it in the first place?’

‘Because he deserves more than I can give him.’ Mickey answered, as if on autopilot. ‘He can do better, and I’m only holding him back from what he could achieve with someone else.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Mandy replied, and Mickey could almost hear her rolling her eyes.

‘No, it’s not. He needs more than me. It’s not fair on him if I keep him back.’

‘Mick.’ Mandy said, warning clouding her tone. ‘You’re being a fucking _idiot._ He chose you, didn’t he? He chose to be with you, out of every single gay man in Chicago. Trust me, the amount of guys who have wanted to be with him is astro-fucking-nomical, and here you are. He gave you his heart, and you tossed it back because you don’t think you’re _enough?_ Don’t you think he should be able to decide that?’

Mickey was quiet for a moment, thinking over Mandy’s words. _When the fuck did she get so wise?_ ‘No, he shouldn’t. He’s too young.’

‘He’s the same age as me, douchebag.’ Mandy said, shaking her head. ‘You wanna tell me who I can and can’t date?’

‘Hah, no. You’d skin me.’

‘Exactly. So why you trying to do the same to Ian?’

‘Because he can do better, Mands.’

‘He picked you, though. He knows your history, knows what a fuck up you could’ve been, knew his family wouldn’t approve – and his family is _everything_ to him. He picked you to love, despite everything, Mick. You’ve thrown away the best thing you ever had.’ Mandy sighed. ‘But hey, if you can’t recognise a good thing when you have it...’

‘That’s the thing.’ Mickey said, finally pulling away from Mandy and rolling towards the wall. ‘I knew he was good, but I don’t deserve him.’

‘Seriously, you need to build up your self esteem. You’re a piece of shit, yeah, but you’re becoming compost for something beautiful. Ian is the little flower growing in you, the piece of shit.’ Mandy huffed, amused by her own analogy. ‘You said he needed something better, right? You were becoming that something _because_ of him. You were exactly what he needed, and he knew that, even if you didn’t.’

Mickey rolled back towards where his sister was now sitting, cross legged, and staring at him accusingly. Mickey bit his lip. ‘I fucked up.’

‘Damn fucking right you did.’

Mickey rubbed his eyes as he shook his head, a single, sad laugh escaping his lips. ‘What have I done?’

 

* * *

 

Mickey was glad that things had happened between him and Ian on a Wednesday, because it gave him a few days to pick himself up and hastily glue himself back together before he had to go back to work on Monday.

Apparently it was still evident that something had happened to him over the Christmas break, because as he was getting coffee from the staffroom at lunch, one of the female teachers – possibly from the English department – said, ‘You look a little stressed, Mickey.’

Mickey turned sharply, hoping he could’ve gotten in and out without people noticing. ‘What?’

She looked a little taken aback at Mickey’s tone, but gave him a gentle smile. ‘You look like something happened over Christmas. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ Mickey snapped, mixing sugar into the black liquid.

‘Did you have a break up?’ A different woman asked, entering the conversation.

‘What makes you think that?’ Mickey asked, narrowing his eyes at them.

‘You were quite pleasant and happy to be around, and now, well. You seem a little on edge.’ The second woman paused voicing her observations. ‘And you’re checking your phone every few seconds.’

Mickey looked up and guiltily slipped his phone back into his pocket. ‘Well, I suppose you’re sorta right. But I was the one who ended it.’

‘Why?’

‘None of your business.’

‘Well, I’m sure she will realise whatever mistake she made and fix it.’ the first woman said, smiling benignly at Mickey. ‘How long were you and your girlfriend together?’

Mickey cleared his throat. _Fuck it._ Not like he had anything, or anyone, to hide from anymore. ‘Boyfriend.’

The pair’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Boyfriend?’ they repeated.

Mickey nodded. ‘We were together about four months.’

The first woman tilted her head. ‘You really liked him, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ Mickey said, staring into his coffee. ‘He was too good for me.’

‘Well, if he chose to be with you in the first place, he obviously disagreed.’ The second woman said thoughtfully.

Mickey laughed sadly. ‘My sister said the same thing. If you’ll excuse me.’ He said, turning abruptly and heading back to his classroom.

He whipped his phone out and sent a text to Mandy, having just realised something.

 

_hey uh, you heard from ian? he wasn’t in class this morning._

_no? he told me he was staying at home today_

_is he okay?_

_he told me he was feeling sick._

_oh_

_if you’re so worried, why don’t you go see him?_

_can't._

_yes you can. pussy._

_fuck off_

And yet, despite how Mickey knew Ian would turn him away and not want to see him, Mickey was couldn’t help but feel concerned. So, at the end of the day, after he had gathered his things, he drove to the Gallaghers’ house.

He parked outside, and climbed the steps, preparing himself for the onslaught of Ian’s siblings’ rage. Mickey took a deep breath and knocked.

It was Debbie who answered, and she looked at Mickey with confusion. ‘Mickey?’

‘Hi, um. Is Ian here?’ Mickey asked awkwardly.

Debbie frowned. ‘No... he said he was staying with you.’

Now it was Mickey’s turn to frown. ‘He... We... Did he not tell you we broke up on Wednesday?’

Debbie paled, if that was even possible. ‘You need to come inside.’ Debbie turned away and went off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Mickey standing in the doorway.

Debbie didn’t seem mad, so Mickey came inside, shut the door, and went off to find her, talking to Fiona in the kitchen.

‘Mickey.’ Fiona said. She didn’t sound angry, only concerned. ‘You broke up with Ian? On Wednesday?’

‘Yeah, I thought he would’ve told you?’ Mickey said slowly. ‘Is he not here?’

‘Nope.’ Fiona raised her eyebrows. ‘We heard from him last on Thursday, and he said he was staying with you for a few more days. Debbie, check the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.’

Debbie nodded, and ran off upstairs. She came back down a few seconds later, shaking her head. ‘They’re all there. I’ll call the pharmacy.’

Mickey looked between them. ‘What’s going on?’

Fiona made a move to answer, but instead bit her lip as she looked over his shoulder. ‘Mandy. Have you seen Ian?’

‘He told me he was coming home.’ Mandy said, appearing at Mickey’s elbow. ‘He told me that you guys knew he and Mickey had broken up.’

‘Hmm. Why are you here if you broke up with him?’ Fiona said, frowning at Mickey.

‘I regret it.’ Mickey said honestly. ‘I came to check on him because I was concerned... I know he won’t take me back, but uh. Thought I could at least check he was okay.’

‘He told me he was sick.’ Mandy clarified, noting Fiona’s confused expression.

‘Nothing.’ Debbie said, interrupting as she hung up the phone.

‘ _Shit._ ’ Fiona breathed. ‘He’s left all his pills here, and his prescription is still at the pharmacy.’

‘Aw, fuck.’ Mandy sighed. ‘How much did he have left in his backpack?’

‘A week? Maybe less?’ Fiona ran her hand anxiously through her hair. ‘Debs, call Tony and tell him Ian is missing. He left your house on Wednesday, right?’ she said, looking to Mickey.

‘Yeah.’ Mickey nodded. ‘What’s this about pills?’

All three of them turned to stare at Mickey. It was Mandy who spoke. ‘His medication?’

‘Medication for what?’

Mandy blinked. ‘Ian’s bipolar, Mick.’ She said slowly.

‘What’s that?’

‘Manic depression.’ Mandy tilted her head. ‘Did he not tell you?’

‘...No?’

‘You were his boyfriend, how could he not tell you?’

‘I don’t fucking know!’ Mickey cried. ‘What the fuck is wrong with him?’

‘He goes through high-highs, and then low-lows.’ Fiona explained. ‘He was on mood stabilisers, lithium, a bunch of other meds, and they kept him level. He’s kind of screwed without them.’

‘How screwed?’

‘ _Really_ screwed. Like, “hide the knives” screwed.’ Mandy said, chewing on her lip.

Mickey’s heart stopped. ‘Ffff...’

‘Yeah.’ Mandy nodded.

‘We need to find him before he gets bad, Mickey.’ Fiona said, her tone dead serious. ‘Look, I don’t care you broke up with him. Well, obviously I do, but he loves you so much, and I need you to help us find him. Can you do that?’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Mickey said.

‘Good. I’ll call Lip and Amanda, see if they can help, but I need you to go and start searching _right the fuck now_.’

Fiona didn’t even need to bother saying that last part, because Mickey was already out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 3:15am, so if i missed anything in my editing i think i can be excused.


	16. Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i have returned to the world of the internet (temporarily - my sister bribed me with her flat's internet if i went grocery shopping with her) (wifi won) but uh i've had this chapter sitting on my computer for freaking days so here it is yay.

Mickey called in sick to work the next day.

He and Mandy had been unable to find Ian in any places he frequented. They tried the club, but no one there worked Fridays with Ian, so Mickey resolved to go back the next day.

Mandy skipped school, deciding to spend her time at Mickey’s house in case Ian turned up there. Debbie had refused to go to school, so she was on watch at the Gallagher’s house, and because Fiona and Lip both had to work, Mickey was the only one out searching.

When it came around to about six in the evening, Mickey made his way to the club, nodding at the bouncer as he entered. He made his way to the bar and hopped up onto a stool, seeing the bartender was the same guy he had met his first time here – Mickey had since learned his name was Ben.

‘Hey, Mickey.’ Ben smiled. ‘What can I get ya?’

‘Nothin’, man. You seen Ian?’ Mickey asked, eyes darting around the tiny amount of people already in the club.

‘Not since Friday. We were all wondering where his personal bouncer was.’ Ben said, frowning at Mickey. ‘He left with some guy. Old. Grey. Kinda fat.’ He added.

Mickey sighed deeply. ‘That sounds like something he would do.’

‘Why? Did something happen with you two?’

 ‘Yeah, we uh. We broke up.’ Mickey said, scratching the back of his neck. ‘On Wednesday. He told my sister he was at home, and told his family he was at mine, so now we don’t know where he is.’

Ben’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You two broke up?’

‘Yeah.’ Mickey nodded sadly. ‘I regret it.’

‘ _Why_ did you break up?’

‘Thought he was too good for me.’ Mickey mumbled awkwardly.

‘Nah, man. He loves you. He picked you out of every guy in this place and – no offence, but there are shitloads of guys better than you, but he still picked you. That’s gotta mean something, right?’ Ben said, looking pointedly at him. ‘Look, if you hang around for a while, I can show you the guy he left with. He’s a regular on Tuesdays and Fridays.’

‘Great, thanks.’ Mickey nodded. ‘So Ian was here on Friday?’

‘Yeah, he seemed a bit... un-Ian.’ Ben said, polishing the glass in his hand. ‘Like he might be off his meds or something.’

Mickey sighed in exasperation. ‘Did _everyone_ know about Ian’s condition before I did?’

‘He didn’t tell you?’ Ben asked, glancing up.

‘Nope.’

‘Huh.  Drink? On the house.’

‘Uh... Just orange juice.’ Mickey said, turning to look at the stages. ‘When is Ian meant to be working next?’

‘Friday, like always.’

‘Think he’ll turn up?’

‘Not if he thinks you’re looking for him.’

‘Shit.’ Ben had a point. If Ian knew that people were looking for him, he would be unlikely to go to places they could find him – if he wanted to be found, he would’ve made himself known by now.

Ben was silent as he cleaned a few glasses. ‘What would give you the impression you thought he was too good for you? If I’m allowed to ask.’

Mickey stared at his drink as he swirled the orange juice around. ‘He deserves more than I can give him. If you love something, let it go and all that shit.’

‘Bullshit. If you love something, hold it as close to you as you fucking can.’ Ben said, setting the glass down. ‘Can I give you some bartenderly advice?’

‘Go for it.’

‘You and Ian, right, you’re perfect together.’ At Mickey’s scoff, Ben flicked him with the towel from over his shoulder. ‘Shut the fuck up, man. You are. You’re like two sides of the same coin, two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly, and what you two have is complete freedom that comes from having the other, you know? You’re meant to be. I think, in the long run, you’re gonna get back together. There’s something between you that’s gonna pull you back to him, and him to you, and when the pair of you are old and grey, you’re gonna look back at _this_ time, right here, and think “Why the fuck did I ever think I wasn’t good enough?”, because you are. You’re everything the other needs without even realising it.’ Ben looked up at Mickey as he poured him more orange juice. ‘Seriously, man. You needa stop playing the martyr. When it comes to love, you gotta be selfish sometimes, because otherwise, you’re gonna lose the best thing you ever had.’

‘The amount of people who’ve told me that recently is higher than I was expecting.’ Mickey raised his eyebrows and took a long gulp of his juice. ‘Is it that fucking obvious?’

‘Is what that obvious?’

Mickey bit his lip. ‘That he loved me.’

‘ _Loves_.’ Ben corrected. ‘But yeah, it is. Outside perspective, Mickey. I gotta go serve these people. I’ll let you know when that guy comes in.’

‘Sure.’ Mickey cleared his throat. ‘Thanks for the um. Advice.’

‘Happy to help.’ Ben smiled, walking down to the other end of the bar.

 

* * *

 

It took shorter than Mickey expected for the Ian-napping queen to arrive.

Ben gave him a pointed look and jerked his head towards a tall man with a large bald spot.

As Mickey looked this guy up and down, he wondered what the hell had possessed Ian to go home with him. Then again, Ian had once told him: “A fuck is a fuck.” Mickey nodded back at Ben, downed the rest of his drink, and walked up to the old guy. He tapped him on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around.

‘Oh, look at _you_.’ The man said, turning to Mickey and smiling appreciatively. ‘What can I do for you tonight?’

‘Friday night you took home a redheaded guy, yeah?’ Mickey asked, raising an eyebrow at him, noting that he was combing his thin, grey hair over the top of his bald spot in a vain attempt to hide it.

‘What if I did?’ Bald Eagle asked, tilting his head at Mickey.

‘Then you’re gonna tell me where the fuck you left him.’

‘What if I don’t remember where I left him?’

 ‘I’m gonna shove your nose into your brain a bit to help you remember.’ Mickey said, smiling benignly. ‘Where the fuck is the kid?’

The man shrugged. ‘Can’t remember.’

‘Really?’ Mickey asked. He grabbed a – fairly empty – fistful of the man’s hair and shoved his face into the bar. ‘Remember now?’

The man cried out as his face connected with the polished wood. He looked up to Mickey and touched his nose. ‘That was really rude!’

‘Do I look like I’m tryna make friends?’ Mickey asked, cracking his knuckles. ‘Tell me where he is, or more than your nose is gonna be broken. Capiche?’

‘Mick, please don’t get blood on my bar again.’ Ben said, walking past with two cocktails in his hands. ‘It took me weeks to get the last stain out.’

Mickey gave him a withering look before turning back to Bald Eagle. ‘The kid. Where is he.’

Bald Eagle straightened his shirt as he looked Mickey up and down. ‘Still in the motel room I got.’

Mickey stared at him, waiting for an expansion on that. ‘You gonna give me anything more to go on?’

‘Maybe if you ask nicely.’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Listen here, you geritol fuck. Give me the name of the place, or I’m gonna kick your balls so hard they migrate halfway up your hairy fucking back.’

Bald Eagle cleared his throat as he thought that over. ‘He’s in the motel down the road. Room 305.’

‘Key.’ Mickey commanded.

The man looked between Mickey and his friend behind him. ‘I would prefer not to give it to you.’

‘You don’t have a fucking choice, dickbreath.’ Mickey said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Give me the fucking key.’

‘Why do you even want this kid?’ Bald Eagle asked. ‘He owe you drug money or something?’

‘Drug money? Fuck off, he’s not on drugs.’

‘Yeah, he is.’ Bald Eagle smirked, apparently happy he had something over Mickey. ‘Maybe you should just leave him with me?’

Mickey whacked his head into the bar again. ‘No fucking chance. Key.’

‘I don’t trust you.’

‘Wow, that’s rich.’ Mickey said sarcastically. ‘You’re supplying drugs to an underage boy and _I’m_ not trustworthy?’

‘You’re hitting my head into a bar!’

‘You’re committing statutory rape, so you deserve it. This is your last chance to give it to me, nice and civilised.’

‘Civilised?’ Bald Eagle scoffed. After having his head whacked into the bar for a third time, the man finally gave in and handed him the key.

‘See? That wasn’t so hard. If you’d done that in the first place, you wouldn’t have blood dripping off your face right now.’ Mickey patted him roughly on the cheek. ‘Room 305?’ When Bald Eagle nodded, Mickey glanced at Ben. ‘Thanks for your help, man.’

‘Anytime. Good luck.’ Ben said, handing the old guy a pile of serviettes for the blood.

As Mickey walked away, he heard Bald Eagle say, ‘He’s not going to kill the redhead, is he?’

‘Nah,’ he heard Ben reply. ‘He’s the redhead’s boyfriend.’


	17. Undetermined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk this chapter might upset some people so be careful i guess?

_mands i might have ian_

_might?_

_might. i'll keep you updated. don't tell his family yet._

_yeah okay_

Mickey slipped his phone back into his pocket as he walked down the road, towards where the motel was. What a fucking stingy bastard Bald Eagle was. He could’ve afforded to get a decent room somewhere, but no, he opted to stay five fucking minutes down the road? Probably for easy access. He could leave Ian in a motel room, then run off back home to his wife. What a predatory, geriatric asshole.

Mickey twirled the key around his finger as he entered the motel. There was a bored looking, pimple covered teenage boy sitting behind the front desk, who looked up and then back to the magazine in his hands.

As he walked into the elevator and pushed the button for the third floor, Mickey remembered Bald Eagle saying that Ian was on something. That didn’t exactly help soothe his worries. He stepped out and went down the corridor, stopping in front of room 305. Mickey realised he probably could’ve just kicked this door down. Instead, he put the key into the lock and turned it.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to expect now. ‘Ian?’ he called softly. ‘You here?’

Mickey ventured further into the room after hearing no reply. The bed had been slept in, there was a bag of pills on the table in the corner, and a light was on in the bathroom. Ian’s backpack was a chair next to a crappy set of drawers, so that at least was a sign that he had been here at some point or another. Mickey hoped that was still the case.

‘Ian?’ Mickey asked again, walking slowly into the bathroom. ‘Ian.’ He repeated quietly, spotting a head of red hair hovering just below the rim of the bathtub.

Mickey gave a sigh of relief. He shouldn’t have.

Ian was lying in the bath, unconscious and barely breathing, with his head tilted awkwardly back and to the side.

Mickey ignored the smell of the vomit covering Ian as he crouched beside the tub. He pulled one of his eyelids back, to see Ian’s pupils were dilated, before he took his phone out and dialled 911.

‘911, what is your emergency?’ A woman’s voice asked, floating through Mickey’s phone.

‘I need an ambulance. My uh. My friend has taken something and he’s unconscious, covered in vomit, and has _seriously_ dilated pupils.’

‘What’s your location?’ Mickey gave her the address as he looked down at Ian and ran a hand through his own hair. ‘There’s an ambulance on the way now. Do you know what he’s taken?’

‘No. No idea.’

‘Okay. Do you know how to get someone into the recovery position?’ she asked, completely calm.

‘Yeah.’ Mickey said, putting the phone onto speaker. ‘Give me a second.’ He put his phone on the top of the sink and grimaced as he put his arms under Ian’s to pull him out of the bath and onto the floor, trying to avoid getting vomit on himself.

He put Ian onto his back, crossing his arm over his chest, then pulling him onto his side, one leg out to stabilise him. Mickey wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed his phone. ‘How far away is the ambulance?’

‘Not too long. Stay calm, sir. Can you make sure that your friend has nothing blocking his airways?’

Mickey tentatively opened Ian’s mouth, and scooped his fingers around inside. Thankfully, it was clear. ‘Nothing in there.’

‘Good, that’s good.’ The woman replied soothingly. ‘Is he breathing?’

‘Barely, but yeah.’

‘Okay. Can you see anything that your friend might have taken at all?’

Mickey hesitated. He had always been taught not to trust the authorities, and if it had been anyone else, and he had been a couple of years younger, he wouldn’t even have called for an ambulance. But this was Ian, and he wasn’t going to try and fix this himself, because he didn’t know if he _could_ fix this. So, Mickey decided. _Fuck it._ ‘There’s a bag of pills on the table in the motel room, but I don’t know what they are. They don’t belong to me, or to my friend.’

‘Okay, make sure to give those to the staff who come to get you, and they might be able to treat him more efficiently. The ambulance is only a minute away.’ She added. ‘You seem to be very calm right now. Are you okay?’

‘Me? Fine. I’ve seen worse.’ Mickey said, gathering Ian’s things from around the motel room and shoving them all into his backpack. ‘At least he wasn’t shot. That’s a _bitch_.’

‘You sound like you’re speaking from experience there.’

‘I am. Getting shot isn’t fun.’

‘No, I’ve heard that before.’

‘It’s true.’ Mickey said, as an ambulance crew burst in. ‘Okay, the ambulance guys are here, I have to go. Thank you for your help.’

‘No problem.’ The woman said, hanging up.

‘Where’s the patient?’ the female paramedic asked.

‘Through there.’ Mickey said, pointing to the bathroom, and standing out of their way.

The two paramedics were busy in there for a few minutes, before they brought Ian out. ‘Bring any drugs you think he might’ve taken, and follow us.’ The same woman said.

Mickey followed them out of the room and down the hall, into the elevator that was just big enough for the three of them and Ian on his stretcher.

As they passed the front desk, Mickey tossed the key to the room at the kid behind the desk. When they got to the back of the ambulance, Ian was put carefully inside, and the paramedics looked at Mickey expectantly. He handed them Ian’s backpack and Mickey said, ‘Which hospital are you going to? I’m going to call his family, but I have a few things to take care of.’

The other, male paramedic told him the name of the hospital then added, ‘Just before you go off, what’s this guy’s name and age?’

‘Ian Gallagher, and he’s 17.’ Mickey glanced at where Ian was lying, an oxygen mask over his face. ‘Take care of him.’

‘We will.’ The guy said, pulling the doors shut as the ambulance started up and drove off.

Mickey watched it drive off, down the road, before he pulled his phone out and dialled Mandy’s number.

‘Mick?’ Mandy answered immediately. ‘Did you find him?’

‘Yeah, I did.’ Mickey said quietly.

‘And?’

‘He was passed out and covered in vomit.’

‘Shit.’ Mandy breathed. ‘You call someone?’

‘Yeah, an ambulance just took him away.’

‘Which hospital.’ After Mickey told her the name, Mandy paused and said, ‘Why the hell aren’t you going with him?’

‘I have something to take care of.’ Mickey said quietly, starting back down the road towards the club.

‘More important than Ian?’

‘No, of course not as important as Ian, douchebag.’

‘Then what?’

‘I have to go see someone.’

‘About...’

‘Stop asking so many fucking questions, Jesus, Mandy.’ Mickey huffed. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

‘Good.’ Mandy paused again. ‘If you’re going to see the person who gave Ian the drugs, give him a kick in the balls from me.’

‘Will do.’ Mickey said, hanging up, and entering the club for the second time that night.


	18. Barred

Mickey was surprised to see Bald Eagle still sitting at the bar. If he was in his position, he would’ve been long gone by now. As it was, Ben saw Mickey walking calmly towards the bar, his face a mask of barely concealed rage, and immediately recognised what was about to go down.

Mickey rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles as he approached Bald Eagle. Stupid, oblivious old fart hadn’t realised Mickey had re-entered the club. As soon as he was within reach, Mickey grabbed the back of Bald Eagle’s head and slammed it forward, with considerably more force than he had the first three times, not bothering with any theatrics or ceremony.

Mickey yanked his head back and put his face mere inches away from Bald Eagle’s. ‘Miss me?’

‘Not in the slightest.’ The man gasped, feeling blood trickle down his throat.

‘Was Ian alright?’ Ben asked, trying to diffuse the tension somewhat.

‘No, Ian was not al-fucking-right.’ Mickey said to Ben, before looking back to his victim. ‘This stupid fuck had him on God knows what, and when I got to him, he was passed out and covered in vomit.’

Ben raised an eyebrow, and Mickey expected to be reprimanded for his rudeness towards him, but Ben only leaned forward, closer to Bald Eagle and said, ‘We don’t take kindly to people drugging our dancers.’ He shook his head and laughed. ‘Mick’s gonna have fun with you.’

Bald Eagle paled, which would’ve been much more obvious, had he not been crusted with blood. ‘Aren’t you going to stop him?’

‘Bitch, it ain’t my place to interfere in his business.’ Ben said, holding his hands up. ‘You’re a grown man, fight him yourself.’

Mickey glanced back to Ben and said, ‘I’ll try not to get blood on the bar.’ He smiled, and pulled Bald Eagle off his stool. He kicked him in the balls as soon as the man’s ass was clear of the chair, and said, leaning close to the guy’s ear as he doubled over, ‘I don’t know where the fuck you get off drugging teenage boys, but it’s gonna get you either killed, or put in prison. Maybe killed _in_ prison. I could arrange it.’ Mickey said, bringing his elbow down into the middle of the man’s spine.

Bald Eagle cried out and fell forwards at Mickey’s feet. He curled in on himself, hoping to avoid a kick in the stomach.

‘Rapists are the lowest of the low, asshole. You’re a disgusting piece of shit, and you’re gonna rot in the deepest part of Hell for it.’ Mickey launched a vicious kick at the man’s groin, and another at his stomach.

‘Stop kicking me!’ the man groaned. ‘I’m sorry!’

‘Shoulda thought of that earlier, fuckwad.’ Mickey snarled, changing tactics to holding the man’s head with one hand, and punching him three times with the other. ‘Saying “I’m sorry” isn’t going to make anyone sleep easier at night.’

Bald Eagle looked to his friends, who had been sitting at the bar, just watching. ‘Aren’t you going to haul this twit off me?’

‘Nope.’ one said. ‘I think you deserve it.’

The man groaned again as he looked around the gathered peoples. He spotted a bouncer and said, ‘This man is attacking me!’

The bouncer – Kyle, another club staff member Mickey and Ian knew – shrugged. ‘I’m only here to take you out once Mickey’s done with you.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘We don’t appreciate people drugging our dancers.’ Kyle said.

Mickey stood and brushed himself down. He gave Bald Eagle one last kick in the spine, before he turned to Kyle and said, ‘Bar the fucker. If I see him in here again, I’m gonna kill him.’

Kyle nodded. ‘I know.’

Mickey leaned down to spit on Bald Eagle. ‘You’re a waste of oxygen. If I see you again, I _will_ kill you, and I’ll do it in a way that won’t get me caught. We clear, shithead?’

Bald Eagle nodded. ‘We’re clear.’

‘Good.’ Mickey straightened and cracked his neck. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a hospital to get to.’ He turned and started walking away, as Kyle hauled Bald Eagle up.

‘Hey, Mickey!’ Ben called. ‘Keep us updated about Ian?’ After Mickey nodded, Ben smiled and said, ‘Go get him back, man!’

 

* * *

 

Mickey entered the hospital, and looked around for someone he knew. Thankfully, he saw Mandy sitting in a row of plastic chairs, next to a water cooler. The Gallaghers – Fiona, Debbie, Carl, and Liam – were sitting around near her, in varying stages of distress. Vee was there as well, and she was handing out paper cups to the group.

Mickey walked over, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached. ‘How’s he doing?’ he asked quietly.

Fiona looked up. ‘Mickey.’ she sighed, pushing Liam gently off her lap and towards Debbie’s. She stood up and walked a bit away from the rest of her siblings. ‘Thank you for finding him.’

Mickey shrugged, and was a little taken aback as Fiona pulled him into a hug, being careful of the cup in her hand. ‘Oh, um. It’s okay.’ Mickey said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.

‘We don’t know much.’ Fiona said quietly. ‘They said he should be okay, eventually, but they were going to pump his stomach and start him on an IV drip for fluids.’

Mickey nodded. ‘Yeah, I would expect that. Do they know what he took?’

‘A bunch of stuff, but they think he might’ve had coke that was diluted with rat poison, or something. Really nasty coke.’

‘What a cheap fuckhead.’ Mickey muttered.

‘Mandy said you were going to go have a talk with the guy who he was with?’

‘Yeah.’ Mickey cleared his throat. ‘Ian went with him on Friday night, and he’s been in this motel since then. The guy who was paying for it was this grey, balding motherfucker. I gave him a bit of a beatdown and he’s been barred from the club.’

Fiona bit her lip. ‘They gonna press charges?’

‘Don’t know. Maybe.’ Mickey laughed bitterly. ‘If they do, and he gets sent to jail, he won’t last a month.’

‘How can you be so sure of that?’

‘I can make sure he doesn’t.’ At Fiona’s raised eyebrows, Mickey shrugged and said, ‘Milkovich, remember? I know people.’  
Fiona snorted and shook her head. ‘I expect you to take full advantage of them.’

‘I will.’ Mickey dropped the small smile that had formed on his face. ‘I, ah. I should go. He won’t want to see me when he wakes up.’

‘Thought you said you regretted breaking it off with him?’

‘I do.’ Mickey sighed. ‘Believe me, I do. But he doesn’t need to deal with our shit, first thing.’

‘Yeah, okay. We’ll let you know what’s going on.’ Fiona put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘Thank you. Seriously. Don’t know where he’d be without you.’

‘Not here.’ Mickey muttered. ‘It’s my fault he’s in this mess in the first place.’

‘No, it’s not.’

Mickey looked up at Fiona’s earnest face from where he had been staring at the floor. ‘If I hadn’t broken it off, he wouldn’t have gone off, and none of this would’ve happened.’

‘Maybe so, but you can’t blame yourself for Ian’s actions. He could’ve just as easily come home.’

Mickey thumbed his bottom lip. ‘But he didn’t. I should go.’ he said again.

Fiona nodded, and pulled him back into another hug. ‘This isn’t your fault. I don’t think anyone is good enough for my brother, but you’re damn near the top of the list.’

Mickey stepped out of her arms. ‘I’m not good enough. I know that. Someone told me, though, that you’ve gotta be selfish in love sometimes, so if Ian wants me back, I’m sure as hell not gonna turn it down and make the same mistake again. If he wants me, I’m his. If he doesn’t, I’ll still be his, and I’ll sit around waiting for him to come back to me.’

Fiona smiled tiredly. ‘See? That right there is exactly why you _are_ good enough. We’ll let you know how he’s doing. Get home safe, Mickey.’

Mickey nodded, and glanced through the glass paned “Staff Access Only” doors, before he turned and left, going straight home.


	19. How Do You Live Under My Skin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from 'Bitches' by I Am Strikes. (Which is a really good song and basically just screams Gallavich to me tbh. But yeah, that song has kind of influenced the rest of this fic, I guess? Go listen to it, okay? Okay.) (Also, let's all be surprised it's more song lyrics.)

  _hi mickey, it’s fiona. thought you might want to know that ian’s awake._

_how is he?_

_come see for yourself. he's asking for you._

_oh. uh. i'll be around after work at maybe 4?_

_kay, i'll make sure there’s no one there so you two can talk._

_okay. thanks._

_no problem. don't fuck it up again, got it?_

_i'll try._

 

* * *

 

Mickey didn’t know if he was quite ready to do this yet.

It was Friday, so even though it had been a few days since he had found Ian in the bath, he still wasn’t sure what he was going to say to him. How could he convince Ian to take him back after this fucking fiasco? Mickey had felt fucking empty for the past week, had barely managed to function at a level required for teaching, and Ian had ended up fucking unconscious and covered in vomit. Mickey thought _he_ had had it bad, but Ian sort of drew the short stick in the whole situation.

When Fiona had been given Ian’s backpack back, she had gone straight for his box of meds, to find that he had missed taking every dose after Wednesday morning last week, but she didn’t blame Mickey. She kept insisting that it was Ian’s decision to go off his meds, Ian’s decision to take the pervert Bald Eagle’s shitty drugs, his decision to try and vanish off the face of the Earth.

It turned out that Ian didn’t think Mickey would care enough to either tell the rest of his family where he might be, and especially not to come after him personally. Ian was, evidently, wrong. No one had told him about why Mickey had dumped him, and mostly because he didn’t want to know. He didn’t really want anything to do with Mickey. Not anymore.

 

* * *

 

Mickey had never really liked hospitals. He tried not to cringe as the nurse told him which room Ian was in. He tried not to move away from the nurse pushing an old dude in a wheelchair, when they got into the elevator with Mickey. He tried not to look nervous as he passed the rooms upon rooms of people suffering from various ailments, as he made his way down the corridor to Ian’s room. Thank God he had a private room (thanks to JimmySteve’s dad pulling some strings) because Mickey didn’t know if he would’ve been able to stand being in a room with other patients.

The smell of hospitals was something he never wanted to willingly experience again.

As Mickey approached Ian’s room, he wondered what the procedure was. Did he knock? Did he just barge in? Was there a curtain around Ian’s bed he had to knock on? He decided to do kind of a mix of the above.

Mickey knocked quietly on the door, went in, and saw there was no curtain to pull back, so he just stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for Ian to move, or something.

Ian turned towards Mickey slowly, blinking a few times, before he croaked, ‘Come here so I don’t have to yell.’

Mickey walked carefully forward, and sat in one of the chairs at his bedside. ‘Hey.’ he said softly. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I’ve just won a beauty pageant. How the fuck do you think I feel?’ Ian said, rolling his eyes and shuffling further up the bed. 

‘You look like shit.’ Mickey said. 

‘Subtlety was never your thing, really, was it?’ Ian said, giving a hint of a smile. ‘I kind of wanted to thank you, I guess. Who knows what would’ve happened to me otherwise.’

 ‘Don’t really want to think about it.’ Mickey sighed, leaning back in his chair. ‘I’m sorry I dumped you, Ian. I never wanted to hurt you, and I never wanted any of _this_ to happen. I only had your best interests at heart.’

‘Hah.’ Ian grabbed a small plastic cup off the table beside him and took a tiny sip. ‘If you had my best interests at heart, you should’ve left us alone.’

‘Yeah, people keep telling me that.’ Mickey murmured. He cleared his throat and sat straight. ‘But, uh, you wouldn’t want to get back together, would you? I never should’ve let you go, Ian.’

‘Probably should’ve realised that sooner, huh.’ he said coldly.

‘I realised that as you shut my door.’

‘Why didn’t you come after me then?’

Mickey thumbed his lip nervously. _Fuck it. This is Ian._ ‘Didn’t want you to see me cry.’

Ian’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. ‘What?’

‘I was taught never to show weakness, and that’s pretty much the biggest giveaway right there. Except for love.’

‘Love is a weakness?’

‘I used to think so.’

Ian’s expression softened slightly. ‘I don’t know, Mick. If we can do this again. I need some time.’

Mickey nodded. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to leap back into my arms.’

‘Good, because I don’t have the energy to move.’

Mickey smiled and stood to leave. ‘I should go, but you’ll be okay?’

‘Yeah, should be fine.’

Mickey nodded, looked like he was deciding something, leaned over and kissed Ian’s forehead. ‘I’m sorry, Ian.’ he murmured. Mickey stroked Ian’s hair gently, before he exhaled deeply, and left.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, he got the text.

 

_i'm not doing it again. i'm sorry mick._

_you don't want to get back together?_

_no. at least not right now._

 

Mickey forced down the sobs, and the pressure turned it into something else. Something sharper – harder, like when if you put enough pressure on carbon, it turns into a diamond.

He put his phone down gently on the coffee table, knowing it might turn into a projectile, and instead, stood up and launched himself, fist first, at the nearest wall.

He punched right through, but the pain anchored him to reality, and the rest of his anger, sadness, and whatever-the-fuck-else he was feeling, disappeared.

His knuckles hurt like a bitch, the skin across them had been broken, and as he watched blood bubble to the surface, he couldn’t help but think that this is what he had been reduced to. Punching through walls, because he loved someone so much – and a _guy_ no less – and he couldn’t have him.

Ian was under his skin, in every good, bad, and painful way, and had made a permanent home there. Mickey didn’t want him to leave.

The way the blood was coming to the surface meant that maybe someone up there had decided it was time to let Ian go free.

Mickey clamped a hand over his knuckles and went to wash the blood off in the sink. As he tended to his injury, he blamed himself for getting in this fucking deep with someone.

Maybe love was a weakness after all.

Mickey resolved to never love anyone ever again. This, right here, was enough, and it was more mental pain over a person than he had ever experienced. He thought about how at least he had memories of love –  the good _far_ outweighing the bad – and he clung to them as he curled up in the middle of an empty bed, and fell into a restless slumber.


	20. Boxes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a fucking mess

When Mickey was young, he had learned to compartmentalise his feelings.

It had come in handy back then. When his mom died, he put his feelings in a little box, moved that box right to the back of his mind, and looked after Mandy. When his dad started drinking even more than he already did, he used to beat Mickey, and the pain got put into another little box to be shoved away from the front of his mind. But people never knew about that, because his dad was usually careful to hit him somewhere no one would see. Sometimes, though, he would pistol whip Mickey, or punch him in the face and give him a black eye or split lip, and that was when people saw, but didn’t care.

The only time Mickey didn’t ignore his feelings was when he would come home and find his dad in his sister’s room. Mickey taught Mandy how to defend herself – against their father and any other bastard who dared to touch her in a way they didn’t like. Mandy tried her best to utilise those skills, but she was only small, and there was no way she could overpower their father, so whenever Mickey could, he would redirect his father onto himself so Mandy wouldn’t get hurt. He would distract their father, put that pain into yet another little box, and look after Mandy before himself. He could deal with the pain, but Mandy was still learning about the boxes.

It had been a long time since Mickey had needed to make another box in his mind to store his feelings in, but he found it came easy to him.

He labelled the box “ _Gallagher_ ”, and put into it everything he had ever felt towards Ian. He found it easier to deal with having just lost everything, once it had been put away.

Mickey thought it must’ve really said something about how he felt about Ian if he put his box in the same corner that held the boxes of feelings his parents gave him.

 

* * *

 

Mickey walked into school on Monday wearing what Mandy referred to as his “battle armour”. Black jeans, black Henley, black boots, and his black peacoat, with the collar flicked up. Usually, this was the key signal he was in a shitty mood, but there were still people in the halls that tried to make conversation with him.

They were all used to Mickey being oddly cheery and generally okay to talk with for a few minutes, so when he strode right past them muttering, ‘Fuck off,’ they were all quite taken aback. Word had gotten around that Mickey Milkovich was gay, and had recently dumped his boyfriend, so a few teachers were sympathetic to his cause, because it was obvious he wasn’t taking it well.

The students, however, giggled and pointed at him, and it was like the first day of the year all over again. Mickey Milkovich, the novelty.

He dumped his stuff at his desk, and tried to get his feelings in check before his students came in, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t take much for him to snap today.

First period – seniors. They weren’t stupid. They could tell something was up with Mickey, and although most steered clear of him as they entered, the purple haired girl – whose hair was now blue, and whose name was Victoria – came up to him.

‘Are you okay, Mr Milkovich?’ Victoria asked quietly.

Mickey looked up from where he had been staring angrily at the floor. ‘Hmm?’

‘You look a bit... stressed.’

‘I’m fine.’ Mickey said, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Just had a tough week last week.’

‘Yeah.’ Victoria nodded. ‘We’ve all heard.’

‘Heard what?’

‘Um.’ Victoria looked embarrassed. ‘Boyfriend troubles.’

Mickey laughed bitterly. She was lucky she was one of Mickey’s favourites, otherwise he probably would’ve gone off his nut right then and there. Instead, he simply said, ‘Great.’

‘Is that...’

‘No, that’s it.’ Mickey sighed. ‘He’s in hospital.’

‘Oh my God.’ Victoria gasped. ‘Is he okay?’

Mickey raised his eyebrow. ‘He will be. But I’m not allowed to care, and I think I’ve told you enough about my personal life for one day, so if you could sit at your desk, please.’

Victoria nodded understandingly. ‘It gets better. Easier. You’ll be okay, Mickey. Mr Milkovich.’ she corrected herself sheepishly, going and sitting at her desk.

Mickey’s anger settled for a few seconds, and he managed to get a new hold on it, right as Jed and his band of blithering idiots entered the room. Usually, Jed didn’t even bother to turn up, and when he did, it was with, what felt like, the express intent of stirring shit and enraging Mickey.

Jed sauntered purposefully towards his desk, right in front of Ian’s empty one, looking expectantly up at Mickey. _Awesome._

Mickey flexed his hands automatically, just itching to punch the little fucker right in the face. He took a deep breath, and said, ‘Okay, so today we’re going to be doing some silent work and revision, so take your books out while I write up your instructions.’

Mickey thought that maybe, _maybe,_ today Jed wouldn’t give him any trouble, and holy shit – maybe he had actually come to _learn_ something? The idea seemed blasphemous in relation to Jed. Of course, Mickey’s hopeful thinking was just that.

‘Mr Milkovich?’ Jed asked loudly. ‘I have a question.’

‘What is it?’ Mickey asked, completely disinterested in anything he had to say.

‘I was wondering if I’m attractive to gay guys.’ Jed said seriously.

Mickey kept his eyes on his laptop screen. _Should’ve expected this._ ‘I don’t know. Ask one.’

‘I thought I was.’

‘Are you asking me if I find you attractive?’

‘Yes.’

Mickey looked up and narrowed his eyes. ‘That’s completely inappropriate.’

‘So is that a yes?’ Jed asked gleefully.

‘No, I think you’re the human equivalent of a turd.’ Mickey muttered. (Victoria heard, and snorted loudly.)

‘Didn’t hear that.’ Jed said.

‘I don’t care.’ Mickey said, anger starting to bubble to the surface.

‘I do.’

‘Too bad.’

‘I thought gay people were meant to be nice.’ Jed complained loudly. His friends snickered.

‘I didn’t get the memo.’ Mickey replied, mocking Jed’s tone. ‘Shut up and get back to work. You’re pissing me off.’

‘What’s up his ass?’ Jed stage whispered to his friends. ‘Probably a dick.’ he added, glancing forward to wait for Mickey’s reaction.

Mickey clenched his fists and stood slowly. ‘Get out of my classroom.’

‘I’m sorry, sir. My legs appear not to be working.’ Jed sighed loudly.

‘Great. You two,’ Mickey pointed at a couple of guys in the second row. ‘Take him out.’

‘I have a phobia of people touching me.’

‘Too fucking bad. Get out, or you will be removed.’

Jed sighed again, like this was a huge chore for him. ‘ _Fine_. Where do you want me to go?’

‘I don’t give a shit. Somewhere I can’t see you.’

‘Why? Are you _that_ attracted to me?’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘The sight of a single human being has never been less appealing to me than you. Don’t come back into my class unless you’re here to actually learn, and not just fuck me off.’

‘Fuck you? No thank you, I don’t swing that way.’

‘Good, because I don’t want your disgusting grass blade of a dick anywhere near my ass.’ Mickey said, walking over to open the door for him. ‘Get the fuck out of my classroom, Eustace.’

Jed paled at the mention of his actual first name, but picked up his bag and moved to leave. He stopped at the doorway and turned to Mickey. ‘You know, I could take you.’

‘You’ve said that before.’ Mickey replied. He cracked his neck, knuckles, and rolled his shoulders. ‘It’s not gonna get any more likely, no matter how many times you say it.’

Jed took a step closer to Mickey, clenching his fists. ‘Fight me then.’

‘Are you serious?’ Mickey asked. ‘Man, you’re a twig.’

Jed, apparently, didn’t appreciate being called a twig. He swung his fist at Mickey’s face, and although it connected with his jaw, it just made a dull ache. ‘Fight me!’

‘That was pathetic.’ Mickey said. He laughed to himself, before he headbutted Jed hard enough to knock him to the ground. ‘You’re a fucking idiot.’

Jed rubbed his forehead and looked up at Mickey. ‘That was rude!’

‘So is you punching me, and asking if I find you attractive just because I’m gay, and so is asking if there’s something up my ass, so you know what? I don’t give a shit if your tiny ego is hurt. Go cry to someone who cares, Eustace.’ Mickey fumed. He had so had enough of this kid and his twelve-year-old-boy jokes. ‘I don’t want to see you back in my class this year, and if I do, I’m _not_ going to be happy.’

Jed looked uncertain, but stood up and left anyway. Maybe he remembered who he had been messing with. Once he was gone, Mickey turned to the rest of his class, who had been watching the exchange with expressions ranging from awe, to mild fear – Paul looked like he was about to shit himself.

‘Anyone else got a problem with who I choose to date?’ At the class’ silence, Mickey nodded. ‘Good. Get back to work.’

 

* * *

 

Mickey rarely went to the gym anymore, because he never really had the time, but he made the time to go today. He needed to hit something, and he felt like a punching bag would be the safest option.

As Mickey efficiently attacked the bag, he let out all his welled up anger and frustration. Gods knows he had enough of that stored up. He hit the bag, again and again, each time picturing a different person. _Jed. Ian. Himself._ Mainly himself.

He shouldn’t have let things get to the point of no return, because that’s what this was. This was Mickey Milkovich hitting the end of his tether where _feelings_ were concerned. _Traitorous bastards._ Mickey hated himself for allowing it. He wished he hadn’t entered into the thing with Ian. It was dangerous, like quicksand. Steady at first, and then once you were sinking, it was difficult to get out of.

He was stupid.

Ian was stupid.

The whole thing was stupid.

It was only when Mickey’s vision blurred that he realised he had punched out all his anger, and now he had started on his sadness. That wasn’t something he wanted to touch on. Not tonight.

He packed up his things, went home and showered, then went to bed.

He missed Ian. The bed was too big without him.


	21. One Day (You'll Understand How Much you Have Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'One Day' by Opshop (New Zealand music represent whoop whoop!)
> 
> Also, I went on a slight history rant in this chapter, so um. Excuse that.

Ian came back to school after a few weeks. From what Mickey heard from Mandy, he wanted to just drop out of school completely, but had been convinced by Lip and Fiona to stay on and finish up his last year.

The first day Ian was back was a Friday, and he tried to sneak in past Mickey’s desk. It didn’t work, of course, and he only got halfway to his desk before Mickey called him to the front.

‘Gallagher.’ Mickey greeted. ‘We’ll need to talk about what you’ve missed at the end of class.’

‘I know.’ Ian nodded, and turned to go back to his seat.

‘Gallagher?’

‘Yeah?’ Ian asked, stopping and looking back.

There was a lot Mickey wanted to say. _I miss you. I love you. I should never have dumped you._ Instead, he settled for giving a small, sad smile, and saying, ‘It’s good to see you.’

Ian gave another nod, before he went and sat down. He stared glumly down at his desk, and wished the world would just split open and swallow him whole, because that would be better than seeing Mickey, and the look of despair that was written on his face.

It was subtle, but Ian knew how to read Mickey, and see under the surface. Ian could see Mickey was heartbroken, and he knew he was the cause.

 

* * *

 

‘Okay, guys.’ Mickey said, calling over the din of the classroom to get the attention of his students. ‘Revision again, focussing on the wives of Henry VIII, but no questions just yet. Let’s have a little discussion. First off, name his wives.’ Mickey pointed to a random girl in the third row, who was twirling a section of her blonde hair around her finger. ‘You. Name the wives.’

The girl gave a long suffering sigh and rolled her eyes. ‘Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, Catherine Howard, and Catherine Parr.’

‘Good.’ Mickey nodded. ‘Would we say that love really played a part in any of his marriages?’

‘Definitely for Anne Boleyn.’ Victoria interrupted thoughtfully. ‘I mean, he converted England to Protestantism so he could divorce Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne.’

‘Yup, any of his other wives, though?’ Mickey pressed.

‘Uh, well. He must’ve loved them if he married them, except for Anne of Cleves, and maybe Catherine of Aragon to begin with. Though it was said Henry was devastated when Jane Seymour died. True love, or something like that.’ Victoria added.

‘What about Catherine of Aragon, though? He loved her, right? And he divorced her because she wasn’t bearing more children.’ Mickey sat on the edge of his desk and looked towards Ian’s corner. ‘Think he still loved her after then?’ _Like I still love you._

‘I think that if you love someone, you shouldn’t let them go.’ Ian said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Don’t you agree, Mr Milkovich?’

‘I do.’ Mickey nodded. _He’s picked up on it._ ‘But what if divorcing someone you love is for the betterment of the person, or the country, like it was with Henry and Catherine?’ _You’re better off._

‘He had an heir, though.’ Paul said from beside Ian. ‘He just wasn’t satisfied with having his daughter, Mary, succeed him, because he wanted his dynasty to last, and he thought that a female ruler would send the kingdom into chaos.’

‘Well, when it comes to Mary, he was kind of right.’ Someone else said. ‘She was a bit mental, wasn’t she?’

‘She was trying to return her country to the faith she was raised in.’ Mickey pointed out. ‘But yeah, she went the wrong way about doing it. Do you think, though, that in Henry’s obsession with getting a male heir, he dropped a good thing that was already there? Catherine loved Henry, and he loved her, too, because she was the woman he was married to longest.’

‘He loved her to an extent.’ Ian said. ‘Once there was someone better available, and she was no longer of use, he dropped her. It wasn’t for the betterment of her as a person, she _loved_ him. It was because he was selfish and wasn’t happy with his lot. He wasn’t thinking about how her happiness would be affected.’

‘A male heir was preferable, though.’ Victoria put in. ‘Not much stock was put behind girls, and Henry’s daughters only had primogeniture in their favour, and although Anne Boleyn’s children would have been put in line ahead of Catherine’s, Elizabeth was technically declared a bastard because Henry’s marriage to Anne wasn’t really recognised in the end.’

‘That’s a good point.’ Mickey said, getting up to high five Victoria. ‘Okay, so do we think it was worth Henry divorcing Catherine?’

‘We got Elizabeth I out of it, and she’s one of the most well known and successful female rulers, so I say yes.’ Victoria shrugged.

‘He only did it to get a male heir.’ Paul offered. ‘Edward probably wasn’t worth the hassle of changing an entire country’s religion, and in the end, his daughters both ended up ruling anyway. I say no.’

‘I don’t really care.’ Ian said simply, which most of the class murmured noises of agreement to. ‘In the end, Catherine of Aragon still ended up heartbroken in exile, watching the man she loved move on without her. If he cared about her, he wouldn’t have been so harsh.’ Ian narrowed his eyes at Mickey.

‘But it was for the betterment of the country, wouldn’t you agree?’ Mickey asked, tilting his head.

‘It was for the betterment of the country, not his wife.’ Ian sighed. ‘Sometimes you should put yourself and the ones you love first. But he had lost interest in her, I suppose. So it was probably for the best that he divorced her early-ish on, not that it would’ve hurt any less at any other time.’

‘They were married for over 23 years, Ian.’ Paul said beside him. ‘I don’t think that counts as “early-ish on”. If he hadn’t changed the law, and England’s religion, they wouldn’t have been divorced in the first place.’

‘Ah, not quite true.’ Mickey interrupted. ‘Henry applied to the Pope to get a divorce, and he said no, so Henry took matters into his own hands.’

‘He had to get special permission to marry Catherine in the first place, though, because she was married to his brother, Arthur, before he died.’ Victoria said questioningly, looking to Mickey for confirmation.

Mickey nodded.  ‘Exactly, but Ian’s initial point seems quite true. It would’ve hurt Catherine at any given time. On that note, we end our little discussion. I’ll write questions up, and I want them finished by Monday, so make sure you write them all down in case you don’t finish today.’

 

* * *

 

The rest of the period flew by, and for that, Mickey was thankful. He wanted to talk to Ian, and he wanted to do it as soon as possible. As the class filed out, Mickey saw that Ian had stayed behind and was sitting at his desk. Once the rest of his students had left, Mickey shut the door and went to sit on the desk in front of Ian’s.

He didn’t know where to start. ‘I have a list of pages to read from the textbook, and a bunch of old homework you can do, if you want.’ Mickey said, looking down to his hands. ‘Look, man. I’m sorry. I understand and everything, but I really wish you would reconsider.’

Ian looked up as he finished putting the last of his things into his backpack. ‘You know, Fiona keeps telling me what a mistake I’m making by cutting you off.’

‘I agree with Fiona.’ Mickey muttered.

‘Yeah, but I don’t.’ Ian said, setting his jaw. ‘The whole Henry and Catherine thing, that was directed at me, wasn’t it? I know when you’re doing double talk.’

Mickey’s mouth quirked into a brief smile. ‘Yeah, it was.’

‘Can’t believe you made me the girl.’ Ian said, rolling his eyes.

 _That’s my Ian._ ‘I sure as fuck wasn’t gonna be the girl.’ Mickey replied. ‘I’m serious though. I only let you go because I know you can do better than me.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Ian, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life, so trust me, it wasn’t a decision I made lightly.’

‘It looked pretty fucking easy.’ Ian hissed. ‘You have no fucking idea what it was like for me. You ripped my heart out, cut me to shreds, then set me the fuck on fire, Mick. It _destroyed_ me. I stopped caring about everything, because you took my fucking world away. I ended up in a _bathtub_ covered in _vomit_. What about you? Did you only get cramp from fucking yourself with a dildo after I left? Big fucking cry for you.’

‘Fuck off.’ Mickey hissed back. ‘You think that’s all you are to me? It was like not being able to breathe, because you’re like oxygen to me, asshole. I’m barely fucking _functioning_. I keep spontaneously bursting into tears, like a hormonal teenage girl, and I swear to God, I haven’t cried so fucking much since I was a baby.’ He leaned forward. ‘And if you really want to know, nothing has gone up my ass since you left, because I can’t do anything without you popping into my head, so trying to jack off only makes me feel fucking _worse_ and tissues end up getting used for something completely different. You have ruined me, Ian. You’ve ruined _everything_ , in the best way possible. And I fucking hate you for it because now I won’t be able to go back to being fucking _normal_. I need you, and I regret dumping you more than anything in my life.’

Ian shrugged. ‘Should’ve thought of that sooner, I guess.’

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

‘I can’t be with you again. I don’t want to go through this again–’

‘You won’t ever go through this again.’ Mickey interrupted softly. ‘You won’t. Because I’m not gonna let you go. Never.’

‘Yeah, well. I sort of thought that promise came with the whole “I love you” thing.’

‘It did, it should have.’ Mickey said, standing up and starting to pace. ‘But instead, it only made me realise that I’m not good enough for you.’

‘Stop being so fucking self sacrificing, Mick!’ Ian said, exasperated. ‘Fucking fight for me!’

‘I want to, and I’m trying, Ian, but at the same time, I know I’ve had my chance, and it’s probably what I deserve. Seven minutes in heaven is all I can expect, and my time has run out, so... I don’t even fucking know, man. I need you to say it to my fucking face, because I can’t move on.’

‘Fine. If that’s what you want then–’

‘It’s not. You know what I want, asshole.’

‘This was a mistake. I never should’ve started this.’ Ian stood up with a sigh, and swung his bag onto his shoulder. ‘I can’t get back with you, Mick. I can’t. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.’

‘It would be the best for both of us.’ Mickey said. He refused to say he _pleaded_. ‘You know it would.’

Ian looked like he was going to say something. Instead, he just dug around in his pocket, and drew his trembling bottom lip into his mouth. He put a closed fist on Mickey’s chest, and waited for Mickey to put his hand underneath to catch the thing Ian had taken from his pocket. ‘I’m sorry, Mick.’ Ian murmured. He shook his head, stopped at Mickey’s desk to get the list of catch up work, and left the room.

Mickey looked down to his open palm and took a deep breath, laced with pain.

It was the key to his apartment.

Ian had fully withdrawn himself from Mickey’s life, like how it was supposed to be. They were only teacher and student now, and Mickey had never felt emptier in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're wondering, primogeniture (at least how I was taught the meaning of it) in relation to Henry VIII means that any male children born to him by ANY of his wives would have been put ahead of any female children in the line of succession. So basically, Edward VI, son of Henry and Jane Seymour, was put ahead of both Mary I and Elizabeth I, although they were older than he. (Henry also had a son called Henry FitzRoy, but he was illegitimate, and therefore ineligible for the throne.) 
> 
> (Henry VIII was the subject of my final History essay last year. My History teacher would be so proud I'm actually using this knowledge for something mildly productive.)


	22. Supplies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's song rec is 'Stay High' (Habits remix) by Hippie Sabotage. Chapter title not from the song, but I listened to it kind of on repeat while writing this chapter. (Also the line 'Can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain. You're gone and I gotta stay high.' so there's that.)

_mick, if you and ian aren’t getting back together, you should go out and get laid or something._

_fuck off, mandy._

_i mean, i don’t want to know what’s gonna go up your ass or not, but i think it would help you move on._

_what if i don’t want to move on, huh?_

_then you shouldn’t have dumped ian._

_you think i don’t fucking know that?_

_i think you’re an idiot for thinking so highly of yourself as to say you weren’t good enough for him in the first place._

_that's more thinking low of myself than high..._

_don’t be an asshole. you know exactly what i mean._

_yeah. i do._

_so you wanna go out?_

_no._

 

* * *

 

_gotten laid yet?_

_thought you said you didn’t care._

_i don’t. i just want to know how you’re doing in the ian department._

_fucking fantastic._

_how long has it been now?_

_four and a half weeks since he gave me the key back._

_and you still haven’t gotten laid?_

_no._

_jesus._

 

* * *

 

_seven and a half weeks, right?_

_yeah. why._

_just uh. ian._

_what about him._

_he's um._

_spit it the fuck out, mandy._

_sure?_

_yes, fuck._

_okay... ian’s got a new boyfriend._

_are you serious?_

_yeah. he looks like a punk version of you. it’s weird._

_huh_

_you okay?_

_are you lying?_

_does it matter?_

_to me it does. gotta keep an eye on my big bro, right?_

_hah. i can take care of myself._

_can you?_

_yes._

 

* * *

 

_i'm coming over._

_why_

_it’s been like two and a half months, you’re still moping, and you still haven’t gotten laid._

_why are you so obsessed with what goes it and out of my ass?_

_because you needa get over him and you aren’t. it's my sisterly duty to help._

_i don’t wanna go out and fuck some random dude._

_sure?_

_uh yeah_

_too bad._

_no. we’re not going out._

_FROWNS LOUDLY fine. i'm bringing over some movies. we're gonna get drunk and cry together._

_...what movies._

_titanic, the notebook, third star, last of the mohicans... maybe a few others._

_...fine. you getting snacks on your way here, or am i providing?_

_you're providing._

_alright. want me to get you anything?_

_mm... the green pringles and like a mars bar or something. and beer. but the one i like, not your gross stuff._

_i still have some of your beers from when you were here last time. but i'll go out the food things now._

_okay. see you soon mick x_

_you only like me because i buy you food._

_correction: only LOVE you because you buy me food :)_

_hah. okay. see you later, mands._

 

* * *

 

It was a familiar trek to the Kash and Grab.

Mickey hadn’t been there in years, but it was close to his apartment for when he didn’t want to go to a big supermarket. The weather wasn’t too bad, though there was a distinct breeze as Mickey walked the short distance to the store.

The bell chimed as he pushed open the door and nodded in greeting to the girl behind the counter. Mickey headed straight for the snack foods, and piled into his arms a few tubes of Pringles, some Doritos, and a bunch of other stuff.

As Mickey stood in front of the freezer, debating which flavour of ice cream to get for Mandy, he heard the bell chime again as someone else came into the store.

‘Oh, hey. Is my shift over?’ the girl behind the counter said.

‘Yeah, it’s three already.’ A familiar voice said.

Mickey groaned quietly and resisted the urge to shove his head into the glass of the door he was staring through. The universe was seriously fucking with him.

‘Are you alright, sir?’ the girl called out.

Mickey cleared his throat. _Quick decision, fuck fuck fuck. Falsetto. Brilliant._ ‘Uh, yes. Everything is fine.’ Mickey said, warping his voice to an unnatural pitch. It sounded nothing like him. _Perfect. Well done, Mickey._

The girl snickered up at the counter. Mickey heard some shuffling around as she must’ve been gathering her things. ‘I’ll be off then. See ya, Ian.’

‘Yeah, bye, Sarah.’ Ian replied, sighing as he dropped something (possibly his own bag?) onto the floor. ‘Let me know if you need any help with anything.’ He called out to Mickey.

 _Oh fuck._ Mickey had no idea Ian worked here. And now he’d gone and put on a falsetto? _Fuck._ Ian didn’t know it was him, and he would look like a complete twat if he went out now, after disguising his voice. _Jesus fucking Christ on his holy tricycle._ Okay. He had three options.

First, he could hide somewhere and wait until Ian went out to the back room or something.

Second, he could perform a very tiny blood sacrifice and ask a demon or whatever to create a portal that allowed him to leave without having to see Ian.

Or third, he could get the fuck over himself and just go buy the things, and act like a rational fucking adult.

Seeing as the first two options didn’t seem very practical for Mickey, he decided to just act normal when he bought his items.

That decided, he yanked two random tubs of ice cream from the freezer, hoping Mandy liked one of them (she refused to share, and Mickey wasn’t overly picky when it came to favourite flavours, so it was a safe option) and went up to the front, dumping his selection of food on the counter, before backtracking and grabbing a handful of Mars bars and Snickers, and dumping them on the pile, too.

Ian looked up as Mickey stared defiantly back at him. ‘Hey, Mickey.’

Mickey nodded curtly back and drummed his fingers on the counter, willing Ian to total up his stuff faster.

Of course, Ian took his sweet time, glancing up at Mickey after every item, like he wanted him to say something.

Mickey got sick of all these tiny yet meaningful looks almost right away, so he sighed heavily, rolled his eyes, and said, ‘The fuck you looking at me like that for, Gallagher?’

‘Nothing. Just...’ Ian flicked his eyes up briefly. ‘How are you? I haven’t really asked.’

‘Yeah, probably because we haven’t talked in nearly three months.’ Mickey said sarcastically. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ian said quietly. ‘You didn’t answer the question.’

‘How am I?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why do you care?’

Ian’s expression softened to something Mickey couldn’t identify, but would put close to a mix of pity and sadness. ‘Just because we’re not together, or talking, doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring.’

‘Yeah, well. You lost all privileges to know anything about my life when you decided to cut yourself out of it.’ Mickey said, opening his wallet and tossing a bunch of bills onto the counter. He grabbed the bags and launched himself towards the door but stopped abruptly when Ian called back to him.

‘Mick, I’m sorry.’

Mickey shut his eyes in pain as Ian’s tone struck a nerve with him. It was the same one he had used to say, _“I love you.”_ after Mickey gave him a key to his apartment. ‘No,’ Mickey’s voice was hoarse. ‘I don’t think I believe you.’

‘Well, I am, Mick. I know how you’re feeling, anyway, because I’m in the same position.’

Mickey scoffed and turned around. ‘You’ve moved on. You shouldn’t be stuck in my pity party, Gallagher.’

‘I see Mandy told you.’ Ian sighed. ‘I don’t even like him that much.’

‘Then why the fuck are you dating him?’

Ian blushed, his skin becoming almost as red as his hair. ‘Was trying to make you jealous.’

‘Hah. Nice work.’ Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘I hope you stop playing your mind games and just be fucking honest.’

‘With who? You, or him?’

‘Preferably both of us. At least with me. I don’t give two shits what you decide to do with him.’

‘Fine.’ Ian said, getting up and coming to stand near Mickey. ‘I want you back. I... realise how hard it was for you to open up like that, and I know I was being an asshole. You were trying to make things right, and I threw it back at you. I’m sorry.’

Mickey narrowed his eyes and looked up at Ian. _Why the fuck is he so tall?_ ‘I need some time to think.’ he said, throwing Ian’s words back at him. His voice was dripping venom, and Ian took a small step back. He knew better than to approach a caged lion – or a caged Milkovich.

‘Yeah, alright.’ Ian said, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I suppose that’s fair.’

Mickey didn’t say anything more, just set his shoulders, and opened the door to leave.

 

* * *

 

‘Mickey, where the fuck have you been?’ Mandy called, hearing the door slam shut as her brother entered his apartment.

‘Jesus Christ, Mandy!’ Mickey cried. ‘Fucking warn a guy when you’re there!’

‘Sorry.’ she said sheepishly. ‘Where were you though?’

‘Kash and Grab.’ Mickey muttered. ‘Fucking Gallagher.’

‘Ran into him, huh?’ Mandy scooted off the couch and onto the floor beside Mickey’s TV and DVD player.

‘Yeah.’ Mickey dropped the bags on the table in front of the couch, pulled out the ice cream, and wandered into his kitchen to shove the two tubs into his freezer. ‘He wants to get back together.’

‘I know.’ Mandy said, studying a bunch of unmarked DVD cases. ‘What are you gonna do?’ she asked, flicking her eyes up to him over the edges of the boxes she held.

Mickey shrugged as he dropped his jacket over a chair and kicked his shoes off into a corner. He grabbed two beers from his fridge and sat on the couch. ‘Don’t know.’

Mandy watched him pop the lids off, far too casually. ‘Oh no.’

‘What?’

‘You’re doing that thing.’ she said accusingly.

‘What thing?’

‘That thing you do.’ Mandy frowned at him in a weirdly maternal manner. ‘You’re doing that thing you do where you cause yourself extreme pain to prove a point.’

Mickey raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t do that.’

‘Fuck off, yes you do.’ Mandy said. ‘Once you put your hand on a stove to prove to Joey and Iggy that you could burn your hand without screaming like a little bitch.’

Mickey took a swig of his beer and belched loudly. ‘Yeah, but I didn’t scream, did I?’

‘That’s beside the point.’ Mandy said, giving up on distinguishing between her movies, and putting one in the disc tray. ‘You’re doing the same thing with Ian, and he’s the stove. You’re going to say no, just to prove you can, and at the end of it, you’re both going to be miserable as fuck.’

Mickey passed her a beer as she sat beside him on the couch and popped open a tube of her Pringles. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Mickey said airily.

‘Yeah, you do.’ Mandy whacked her elbow into his ribs. ‘You’re gonna regret it and you know it.’

Mickey just shrugged and said, ‘We’ll see.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah okay so i have this weird headcanon because mandy and mickey are so similar yet also different, that their taste in snack food reflects that? like mick is all bbq pringles and snickers bars, so i think mandy would be sour cream and onion pringles and mars bars or something. the same, but different. does that make sense? (i'm sorry ignore me and my food headcanons.)


	23. Mandy Knows Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been a few days. 
> 
> The end of the angst is near though, so hang in there :L

Mickey had always hated admitting when Mandy was right.

It didn’t annoy him so much when it was about little things, like when a certain program he wanted to watch was on TV, but when it was things like how he would regret turning down Ian? She was right before she even fucking spoke.

Mickey regretted it the moment he walked out of the shop. Actually no. He regretted it _before_ then. Because Mandy was right. He was the sort of person who would put himself through pain just to prove that he could. He was, among many other things, a masochist.

Mandy, of course, knew this. She knew that he would be causing pain, not only to himself, but to Ian as well, but she also knew that Mickey was too proud to admit when he had made a mistake. And so, she was left to watch as they both suffered because of Mickey’s pride.

Ian, she knew, would have to get over this eventually. He loved freely and openly, and was happy to give himself to Mickey. He would get over it, especially since he had Will now, though Mandy suspected the only reason he could stand him was because he had a similar physique to her brother – dark hair, blue eyes, tattoos.

Will, however, was the complete opposite of her brother. He was a kind and considerate man, and was ridiculously affectionate towards Ian. Mandy had a deep feeling of pity settled in her stomach as she watched them interact. Will, with his stretched ears, nose piercing, and tattoo sleeves, was perfectly attractive. If he wasn’t gayer than a unicorn shitting a glitter covered rainbow, then Mandy would be all over him.

But Ian seemed to be... less than pleased with his new beau. He acted happy and in lust with this guy, but Mandy knew him better than to simply accept it. Ian’s eyes were empty, his smile was smaller than she had ever seen it, and he was just so _quiet_.

A few hours after leaving Ian and Will to finish their drinks at the bar she had met them at, Mandy sent a text to Ian.

 

_ian, you need to stop this_

_stop what?_

_the thing you have with will_

_what makes you say that?_

_have you seen yourself lately? you look like someone just ran over your puppy._

_are you saying i look unhappy with will?_

_that is exactly what i'm saying_

_then you’re exactly fucking right_

_i know i am_

_are you busy?_

_nope_

_can you come round to my house?_

_yeah of course. i'm leaving now._

When Mandy got to the Gallagher house, she knocked on the door, and waited the few seconds for the door to open.

‘Oh, hi, Mandy!’ Debbie smiled. ‘Are you here to see Ian?’

‘Yeah.’ Mandy nodded. ‘He’s up in his room?’

‘Yup. But his room is Lip’s old room now.’ Debbie said, stepping aside to let Mandy in. ‘He moved in there a few weeks ago.’

‘Okay. Thanks, Debs.’ Mandy smiled, shucking her coat and boots, and climbing up the stairs to Ian’s room.

She knocked carefully on the sliding door, before rolling it across and poking her head in.

Ian was lying on the double bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, and drumming his fingers on the back of his phone. He glanced briefly at her, before letting out a deep sigh, and saying, ‘Yeah, come in. Shut the door.’

Mandy raised an eyebrow at his apparent lethargy, but nonetheless, did as he asked. As she lay down beside him on the bed, she took his hand in her own. ‘What’s up with you?’ she asked, nudging his leg with her foot

‘I think I’m gonna break up with Will.’ Ian mumbled, his hand relaxing into Mandy’s firm grip.

Mandy frowned. ‘Are you okay with that? I mean, yay, because you never really seemed to actually _like_ him that much, but are we seeing this as progress?’

‘Progress?’ Ian scoffed. ‘Progress towards what?’

‘Fuck if I know. Progress of any kind. Getting over Mickey and his archetype, maybe?’

Ian groaned. ‘No. Definitely no progress on that front.’

‘So you still love him then?’ Mandy asked, not particularly wanting to discuss how much her best friend wanted to bone her brother.

‘Of course.’ Ian sighed, and turned his head to look at her. ‘Your brother is a sadist, you know.’

‘Sadist, maybe. Masochist, definitely.’ Mandy replied, looking back at him. ‘You know he stills loves you too, right?’

Ian laughed miserably. ‘Well, he’s got a funny idea of how to show it.’

‘He’s just... He’s not good with feelings.’

‘Trust me, I know. He said “I love you” for the first time, then dumped me less than a week later.’

‘That’s rough.’

‘You think?’

Mandy was silent as she thought for a few moments. She was about to say something, but changed her mind when Ian shuddered through a breath and squeezed her hand.

‘I miss him so much, Mands.’ Ian said quietly. ‘I feel like I’m drowning, and he’s the only thing that can pull me out of the waves and keep me floating.’

Mandy squeezed his hand back. ‘I know, Ian. The thing is–’

‘I’m only young and don’t know what love is?’ Ian asked, interrupting her. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard that from Lip, I’ve heard it from Fiona, hell, I’ve even heard it from _Frank_. I don’t care that I’m young. I don’t know if I’m going to find someone I love as much as Mick. I don’t _want_ to, and I fucking _won’t_ because he’s everything I wanted, and everything I never knew I wanted, all rolled into one person.’

‘You should’ve let me finish.’ Mandy smiled. ‘I was going to say, the thing is, that you both still love each other. Mick is too proud to crawl back, you’re too proud to crawl back, and you both refuse to meet in the middle. You both want the other to make the entire effort, and in the mean time, you’re both fucking miserable, and that’s not going to change unless you two change your fucking attitude.’

Ian’s anger dissipated as he considered this. ‘So are you saying that Mick and I need to meet in the middle? If I thought it was that easy, I would’ve done it by now.’

‘No, you wouldn’t have.’ Mandy sighed. ‘Look, I’ll talk to Mick. You need to break it off with Will, because you fucking around with him to make my brother jealous is only going to make him pissed off.’

Ian nodded. ‘I know. Honestly, right now, I’ll take whatever the fuck kind of reaction I can get from him.’

Mandy released Ian’s hand and stood up. ‘Might want to drop those tactics before my brother decides violence is the answer to his problem. Talk later, yeah?’

‘Yeah, alright.’ Ian said, rolling towards the edge of the bed and standing up. He wrapped his arms around Mandy and rested his chin on her shoulder. ‘Please don’t fuck this up for me.’

‘When have I ever done that?’ Mandy asked, returning the embrace.

‘Hmm.’ Ian released her and went back to lying on his bed. ‘Text me.’

‘Of course.’

 

* * *

 

‘Mandy?’ Mickey asked, rubbing at his eyes. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘What the fuck are you still doing in bed? It’s three in the afternoon, you lazy shit.’ Mandy said, rolling her eyes and shoving past him into his apartment. ‘Look, you need to get the fuck over yourself and get back with Ian.’

Mickey narrowed his eyes at her as he stepped into the living room and flopped onto his couch. ‘Why the fuck would I do that?’

‘Because you’re miserable, he’s miserable, you both want to get back together, and the only thing stopping you is _you_.’ Mandy sat down next to her brother and kicked his ankle. ‘Seriously, this little “I’m not good enough” thing you have going needs to stop _now_.’

‘Who says it’s just that anymore?’

‘Isn’t it?’

Mickey sighed deeply and sat back, pushing himself into the pillows. ‘No.’

‘Well, what is it then?’

‘He’s moved on, he doesn’t love me anymore.’

Mandy rolled her eyes. ‘Mick, you’re my brother and I love you, but sometimes you are the stupidest person I have ever met. He was only dating Will to get a reaction from you. He dumped him, and he’s waiting for you at the halfway point to come to your fucking senses and go back to him.’

‘How the fuck would you know that?’

‘He’s my best friend, douchebag.’ Mandy punched him in the arm. Hard. ‘So, seriously. Get yourself the fuck together, and go back to him. He’s not running away.’

Mickey bit his lip and studied Mandy’s face for any trace of a lie. After a few minutes, he re-emerged from the pillows to grab his phone from the table in front of the couch. He sent off a text, received a reply, and looked back to his sister. ‘You need to go.’

‘What? Why?’ she demanded.

‘Ian’s coming over.’ Mickey said, standing.

‘Good.’ Mandy grinned as she stood up. She gave her brother a quick hug, before pulling back with a frown on her face. ‘Mick, you smell like barbeque sauce.’

Mickey shook his head with a small smile on his face. ‘You’re not the first person to tell me that.’

‘Yeah, well. You should probably put on cologne or something. Barbeque sauce is not a very sexy thing.’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Seemed to do the trick for Ian.’

‘Wow, okay. Didn’t need to know that.’ Mandy said, turning and swiftly heading for the door. As she left, she called back, ‘Have fun!’


	24. Halfway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few things before you go ahead with this chapter.
> 
> First off, in case you hadn't noticed, I have fully jumped onboard the "Mickey's first name is legit, Mykola" ship. Because of reasons.  
> Second, if you're really craving any recommended listening for this chapter, I'm saying 'Kiss Me' by Ed Sheeran.  
> Last but not least, this is the chapter that's been coming after the last like, 12 chapters of angst. It's not much, and there's more to come, but you can all celebrate because the angst is done with. Woohoo!

Despite how little both he and Ian cared, Mandy was right – Mickey did smell like barbeque sauce. However, this occasion did not exactly call for smelling like barbeque sauce, and even though Ian wouldn’t give a shit what Mickey wore or smelled like, he decided to throw on clean clothes and a smidge of the fancy cologne that Mandy had got him for his birthday the previous year. Just like she had suggested.

There was a knock on Mickey’s door, and he steeled himself for what he was about to do.

He opened his door, and it was like a breath of fresh air. ‘Hey.’ Mickey said softly.

‘Hey.’ Ian smiled, walking into the apartment as Mickey stood aside to let him past.

‘You want a beer or something?’ Mickey asked, dithering under the arch between his living room and kitchen.

‘Uh, yeah. That’d be great.’ Ian said, sitting on the edge of Mickey’s couch.

Mickey came back and passed him a bottle, sitting away from Ian on the old armchair in the corner. He had no idea how to start the conversation, but thankfully, he didn’t have to.

‘I’m sorry.’ Ian said, drawing shapes in the condensation of his bottle. ‘I shouldn’t have shut you down in the way I did.’

Mickey sipped his beer and avoided eye contact. ‘That all you’re gonna say?’

‘What else am I _supposed_ to say? Because seriously, tell me what you want me to say, and I’ll say it.’

‘Why instead of coming back sooner, you started dating someone else. That would be a good start.’

Ian sighed and sat further back on the couch. ‘I don’t know. Because I didn’t want to go back on what I said? I guess I was hoping that it would make you jealous and you would fight harder or make some kind of grand gesture or something.’

 ‘A grand gesture?’ Mickey raised his eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’

‘A guy can dream.’ Ian shrugged.

Mickey narrowed his eyes. ‘Look, man, I’m done with you fucking with my head, okay? If you want to be with me, then I’ll be over the fucking moon, but if you don’t, then fucking _mean_ it and don’t come back in three months saying you’ve changed your mind again. Do you want this or don’t you?’

Ian pursed his lips. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.’

‘Are you sure? Like a hundred percent sure? Because I can’t do this again if you’re not.’ Mickey pressed.

Ian shook his head. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’

‘Get what?’

‘You broke it off in the first place, and the only explanation you gave me was _“I’m not good for you.”_ I never thought that, Mick. I don’t need someone who can provide for me, and will take care of me like they’re my parent. Being in a relationship doesn’t mean being perfect. It means being together, and facing things _together_.’ Ian put his beer on the table in front of him, and clasped his hands together in an effort to stop from reaching out to Mickey. ‘Fiona told me that after I was taken to hospital, you came in to see how I was doing. She told me you gave a beat down to the guy who I was with, and she told me what you said before you left.’

 Mickey bit his bottom lip and asked quietly, ‘And what was that?’

‘You told my sister that you wouldn’t make the mistake of letting me go a second time, and that whether we were together or not, you would be mine.’ Ian replied.

Mickey nodded slowly. ‘Yeah, I did say that.’

‘Did you mean it?’

Mickey’s eyes flicked up to Ian’s earnest face. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you know what Mandy said to me earlier?’

‘No, what _did_ my sister say to you earlier?’ Mickey asked, setting his beer on the table.

‘Basically, that we were both too proud to meet in the middle and say “ _I fucked up_ ”.’ Ian stood and took a step forward. ‘This is me saying I fucked up, and I’m waiting for you in the middle.’

‘Know what she said to me?’ Mickey stood up, too, and clenched and unclenched his fists by his sides.

‘What did she say to you?’

‘Mostly that I needed to get the fuck over myself.’ Ian smiled at that, before Mickey continued his sentence with, ‘But she said you weren’t running away.’

‘I’m not. I’m waiting for you in the middle, and I always will.’ Ian’s previously stoic expression softened. ‘Please, Mick.’

Mickey had already made his mind up, even before Ian walked in through his door. Now, here he was, offering himself to Mickey once again. The only thing separating them now, was the step between them for Mickey to take.

‘You want this?’ Mickey asked. ‘You want me?’

‘More than anything.’ Ian replied. ‘Just meet me in the middle, Mick.’

Mickey flexed his hands one more time, yanked out the mental box with “ _Gallagher_ ” on it, and threw the contents around his brain. ‘I fucked up.’ he breathed, taking the step, and immediately bringing his hands to Ian’s face, and leaning up to kiss him.

Ian’s arms wound automatically around Mickey to pull them as close together as was possible. The kiss wasn’t hard, or violent, in the way they had been before. This was more like making up for all the time they hadn’t spent together. It was a kiss that was soft, but full of the feelings Mickey had stored away, and said exactly what words couldn’t.

_I’m sorry. I love you. I missed you. I should’ve taken my head out of my ass earlier._

After a few moments, Mickey pulled back, and just rested their foreheads together. Mickey took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know.’ Ian replied, running his hands over Mickey’s back. ‘I know.’

‘For everything. I’m sorry.’

‘I know. It’s okay.’ Ian kissed the spot under Mickey’s ear. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

‘I fucked up.’

‘ _We_ fucked up.’ Ian laughed. ‘We’re both as bad as each other.’

‘Maybe we should just save the rest of the world the trouble of dealing with our shit and never break up.’ Mickey suggested, running his fingers through Ian’s hair.

‘I agree.’ Ian murmured. ‘Wait, was that a proposal?’

‘God no.’ Mickey said, burying his face in Ian’s neck. _Not yet._ ‘Hey, um, I haven’t had sex in nearly four months...’

Ian nodded, getting Mickey’s suggestion immediately. ‘We should change that.’

‘Right now?’

‘Right now.’

 

* * *

 

Mandy rarely received Snapchats from her brother. They were friends (Mandy wondered if that was technically the correct word for it) on the app, but he rarely used it to send her things. When her phone lit up, saying she had a Snapchat from _milkovich_mykola3,_ Mandy was almost frightened to open it.

She was glad she did though, and she was pleased to have successfully taken a screenshot, because it only lasted two seconds. She had to go into her photos to see what it actually was.

It was quite probably the only selfie Mickey had ever sent her. He wasn’t alone in it, though. It looked like he and Ian had made up, if their unclothed state, and the sheets below them were anything to go by. That, and the caption Mickey had added.

 

_We met halfway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original plan did not actually have them getting back together. But I figured you guys had suffered enough...


	25. What I've Missed Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if you haven't noticed, I've made this fic 27 chapters, instead of leaving it open ended. This is chapter 25, so there are only 2 left. (KInda sprung that on you, didn't I?) Anyway, my internet has made a miraculous recovery, so yeah. Here you go c:

Halfway, as it turned out, was a very relaxing place to be.

Neither Ian, nor Mickey, felt like they were alone in the relationship. It wasn’t like pushing and meeting no resistance, it was pushing and someone pushing you back, because they were on the same page now.

Ian and Mickey made an agreement to be completely honest with each other about everything that had happened during their break, and to stay open with each other through the rest of their relationship. They decided – rightly so – to keep their thing under wraps during school, and for a few months after school had finished, so it didn’t look overly suspicious and still end up with Mickey going to prison.

Of course, Ian had to tell his family about him and Mickey, just so they would get off his back, and Fiona would stop with the weirdly mournful looks. They did this by way of Mickey taking Ian home later that day. He had to get a few of his things and return them to Mickey’s house, after all.

‘Hey, Fi! I’m home!’ Ian called, shutting the door behind himself and Mickey. ‘And guess what? I have a surprise for you!’

‘Mother _fucker_!’ Fiona screamed from the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans banging around echoing through the otherwise quiet house, before she added, ‘Did you get back with Mickey?’

‘Maybe.’ Ian replied, pulling Mickey by the hand into the kitchen.

Fiona spun around, grimacing as she rubbed her finger carefully, from where she had whacked it between two pots. ‘Mickey!’ she smiled. ‘I never thought I’d say it, but it’s good to see you.’

Mickey coughed awkwardly. ‘Yeah, uh, you too, I guess.’

Fiona looked between the pair of them and her smiled slowly became a grin. ‘You two made up already, didn’t you.’

‘Yeah, we talked–’ Ian started.

‘No, you did more than talk.’ Fiona interrupted. ‘You’ve loosened up. No more pent up frustration.’

‘Woah, okay. I’m not having this talk with your sister.’ Mickey said, turning and going upstairs. ‘Gallagher, where the fuck am I going?’

‘You’re in a house full of Gallaghers.’ Fiona called. ‘Be more specific.’

‘Well, I don’t know. You’ll do, I suppose.’ Mickey replied sarcastically. ‘Fuckin’, the Ian-type one.’

‘The “Ian-type one”?’ Ian asked, coming up behind Mickey and slapping him on the ass as he darted past him up the stairs. ‘Where are you trying to get?’

‘Your room, so you can grab your stuff and we can go.’

‘Why are we going again? We just got here.’ Ian said, stepping around Mickey to go into one of the bedrooms.

‘We’re going so we can finish making up.’ Mickey muttered. ‘You get what I’m saying?’

Ian raised his eyebrows. ‘Yes. Yes, I get what you’re saying, I agree one _hundred_ percent.’

Mickey smiled as he watched Ian go around his room to get bits of clothing, shoving them into a bag as well, and then into the bathroom to get a few other things.

Ian came back to find Mickey sitting on his bed. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Yeah...’ Mickey looked awkward. ‘Do you have backup meds in there too? I don’t know what you take or anything...’

Ian’s eyes widened briefly. ‘Did you want me to have backup meds at your house?’ he asked.

‘I think it would be a good idea.’ Mickey nodded. ‘I wish you had told me about your... thing... earlier.’

Ian looked down, embarrassed. ‘Yeah, I should’ve told you.’

‘Due to our new policy, now would be a good time for it, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah, alright.’ Ian said, sitting beside Mickey on the bed. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘I don’t want any details, or anything you don’t want to tell me. For now, just when you need to take the meds, so I can remind you, in case you forget.’

Ian smiled. ‘6.30.’

‘Is that am or pm?’ Mickey asked.

‘Both.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ Mickey frowned. ‘Is that why you always got up to go to the bathroom around that time?’

‘Yeah. I, uh. I didn’t want you to catch me taking them.’

‘Huh. I always just figured you had a bladder that went like clockwork.’ Mickey mused. ‘Why’d you never tell me?’

‘Didn’t want you to freak out and leave me.’ Ian mumbled. ‘My siblings knew what to do, but they were pretty cagey and careful around me the first few months after I was diagnosed. They still kind of are.’

‘How did they know?’

‘Our mother is bipolar. She doesn’t take her meds.’ Ian paused, wondering if he should continue with this line of conversation. _Fuck it._ They were being open now, right? ‘A couple of years ago on Thanksgiving, she slit her wrists on the kitchen floor. I guess my siblings didn’t want me to do the same.’

Mickey looked at Ian, shock clear on his face. ‘Well, I think that would be a safe bet, yeah. How’d you even get diagnosed? Don’t you need to go through a crazy phase or something?’

‘Not necessarily.’ Ian said, shaking his head. ‘I did, though. I had a manic episode, was strung out on coke or whatever for a good bit of it... It wasn’t a good time, but it was a picnic compared to the depressive state that came after.’ Ian took a deep breath, and let out a shaky laugh, despite the seriousness of the situation. ‘Debs found me one morning, huddled into my blankets, and staring at the wall beside my bed. I didn’t want to move, or eat, or drink. Just wanted everything to end.’

Mickey bumped their knees together. ‘But you’re better now, right?’

‘Yeah.’ Ian nodded. ‘It took a while to find a combination of meds to keep me balanced, but we got there.’

‘Good.’ Mickey leaned over and placed a small kiss on Ian’s temple. ‘That’s good.’

Ian smiled. ‘I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t.’ Mickey stood up. ‘You wanna go now?’

Ian nodded. ‘Pizza on the way back?’

‘If you want.’ Mickey said, following Ian from his room.

‘Oh.’ Ian stopped, midway down the stairs and turned back to his boyfriend. ‘We need to invite Mandy for pizza, too.’

‘Why the fuck is my sister having pizza with us.’

‘Because I promised her she could. It was months ago, and she probably won’t remember, but I promised.’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Fine.’

Ian laughed, and finished going down the stairs. ‘It’s good you said that, because I’d already invited her.’

‘Of course you had.’ Mickey murmured. ‘But she’s _not_ staying.’

‘No, definitely not.’ Ian agreed. ‘We have time to make up for.’

‘Thanks for sharing.’ Fiona said, chopping carrots on the bench. ‘Not here for dinner, then?’

‘Nope.’ Ian said. ‘And I’ll be at Mickey’s tonight.’

‘Okay. But you’re back tomorrow.’ Fiona said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I mean, I’m glad you’re back together, but it’s still a school night.’

‘Yeah, I know, Fi.’ Ian called, rushing Mickey out towards the front door. ‘See you tomorrow!’ As Ian jumped into Mickey’s car beside him, he said, ‘Know what I’ve missed most about you?’

‘Oh God, here we go.’ Mickey groaned, starting his car. ‘What?’

‘Having somewhere to stay that didn’t have a member of my family in it.’ Ian said, sitting back in his seat.

‘I know the feeling.’ Mickey replied. ‘Know what I’ve missed most about you?’

‘What?’

‘You.’

Ian smiled, surprised. ‘That’s adorable.’

Mickey glared at him, but it was ruined by the grin taking over his face. ‘Fuck off.’


	26. Palpable Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As my History and Classical Studies teacher from last year would say, the penultimate chapter!
> 
> (Wouldn't be surprised if I finish writing this fic tonight. I'm zooming through.)

Mickey had just walked into the staffroom for a cup of overly-watered-down coffee, when one of the women who had given him relationship advice a few months ago said, ‘You look happy today.’

Mickey turned around as he dumped two sachets of sugar into his cup. ‘Do I?’

‘You do.’ she replied, smiling. ‘Something happen over the weekend between you and that guy you were moping over a little while ago?’

Mickey grinned in reply. ‘Maybe.’

‘That’s good.’ she nodded. ‘I’m glad you worked it out.’

‘Me too.’ Mickey said, taking a sip of his coffee, and grimacing down at it accusingly. ‘This coffee tastes like ass.’

‘You get used to it after a while.’ the woman laughed. ‘Well, I hope you and your boyfriend are happy together.’

‘We are.’ Mickey said, adding more sugar and exiting the room.

 

* * *

 

It was a weird thing, love.

Mickey’s happiness was almost palpable as he walked into his classroom full of seniors. ‘Hello everyone!’ he called. ‘How was everyone’s weekend?’ There were various mutterings around the room, and Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Great, well, mine was good.’

‘We can tell.’ Victoria (now sporting literally _orange_ hair) said. ‘You’re very enthusiastic this morning, Mr Milkovich.’

 ‘I can always tone it down and swear at you all, if you prefer.’ Mickey shrugged. ‘Anyway, let’s get going on some revision. Pull out your textbooks, and go at it.’

The class collectively raised their eyebrows at Mickey’s good mood, but did as he asked.

Mickey sat down at his desk, going through the multitudes of cat videos the science department was still sending out, before feeling his phone go off in his pocket.

Mickey pulled his phone out to find the screen displaying:

 

**_Ian  
_ ** _aren’t you happy today?_

Mickey glanced back into Ian’s corner of the classroom and gave him a withering look.

 

_is it against the law to be happy_

_idk you’ve broken more laws than i have_

_damn fuckin right i have_

_so?_

_so what_

_*sings* i'm still a roCKSTAR_

_what_

_it’s pink. don't you know it..?_

_should i_

_yes_

_hmm. well no being happy isn’t against the law, smartass_

_i think my head is smarter. only marginally though ;)_

_you’re hilarious_

_ikr_

_you needa study. stop texting me_

_can i sext you then_

_noooooooo last time i ended up with blue balls remember_

_damn that was hilarious_

_it was not_

_yes it was_

_fuck you man._

_not right now. later?_

_later_

 

* * *

 

Saturday morning, 2am, Ian and Mickey were lying in bed.

Not doing anything but holding each other and tracing shapes and patterns across the other’s skin. They had both missed the simplicity of this, but neither would admit to it.

Ian had just finished his shift at the Fairytale, and they had both been too tired to do anything but strip out of their clothing, down to their boxers, and flop into bed. Ian would end up with eyeliner smudged all over his face and pillowcase, but he didn’t care. Mickey didn’t, either. He thought it made Ian look like a panda, and that seemed to be the funniest thing ever to him.

‘Hey, you awake?’ Mickey murmured, knowing full well Ian was.

‘Yeah.’ Ian replied. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was thinking...’ Mickey said, running his hands over Ian’s shoulder blades.  ‘I should give you back the key to my apartment.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ian asked.

Mickey nodded. ‘Yeah. But this time, don’t give it back. When I give you the key, you should pretty much know that it’s me telling you I want you to stick around.’

‘I know.’ Ian replied, kissing Mickey’s hair. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Promise?’ Mickey asked, voice much smaller than he’d have liked it to be. More vulnerable.

Ian put as much conviction into his reply as he could muster. His voice was strong as he said, ‘Promise.’


	27. You'll Be My Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 'Resolution' by Matt Corby.

‘Sure you want me to go with you?’ Ian asked, staring blankly into his side of the closet.

‘Yeah.’ Mickey replied, coming up behind him, kissing his shoulder, pointing at a shirt. ‘How long has it been since you finished school? Five years? No one will remember you.’

‘You don’t know that.’ Ian said, pulling the suggested shirt off its hanger. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit risky to take me to a staff Christmas function?’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Nah. We can just tell them we met again a few years ago at a club or something.’

‘If you’re sure...’ Ian said, sounding anything but.

‘I am. You’re my boyfriend, I love you, and I give exactly zero shits what they have to say about it. Okay?’

Ian smiled at Mickey’s determinedness. ‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Are you ready to go now?’ Mickey asked, grabbing his jacket off the bed.

‘I am.’ Ian said. ‘Let’s get this done with.’

  


* * *

  


‘Mickey!’ a voice called, as soon as he and Ian stepped into the staffroom. It was Lynn, the maths teacher who had talked to him a few years ago after he and Ian had broken up (and then gotten back together). ‘And who’s this?’

‘My fff...’ _DO NOT SAY FIANCÈ._ ‘Boyfriend.’

Lynn raised her eyebrows. ‘The elusive boyfriend, huh?’ she looked Ian up and down. ‘Have we met?’

‘Uhhhhh...’ Ian looked to Mickey for guidance.

‘Can it be?’ Lynn gasped. ‘Ian Gallagher?’

‘Oh, uh, yeah.’ Ian said, squeezing Mickey’s hand. _Help me, Mick._

‘Dating an old teacher, huh?’ Lynn joked. ‘When did you two get together?’

‘A couple of years ago.’ Mickey replied. ‘We met at a club and hit it off.’

‘That’s lovely.’ Lynn cooed. ‘You’re a beautiful couple.’

Ian grinned, finally finding his usual “people person” spirit. ‘Thank you, he really is.’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘We should go find drinks...’

‘Over by where the ass-coffee usually is.’ Lynn pointed. ‘I’ll let you get to it. It was nice to see you again, Ian.’

‘You too.’ Ian smiled, following Mickey off to where the drinks were.

Mickey pulled out a flask and poured a hefty amount of whiskey into his glass of orange juice.

Ian raised an eyebrow. ‘Sure that’s a good idea?’

‘You saying I can’t handle my liquor?’ Mickey asked, sounding mildly offended. ‘Besides, you agreed to be the sober driver.’

‘I did, didn’t I?’ Ian sighed. ‘I wish I hadn’t. Give me a sip of that stuff.’

‘Nooo.’ Mickey said, snatching the flask out of Ian’s hand. ‘Can’t drink on your meds, man.’

‘Can’t drink _much_ on my meds.’ Ian grumbled, glaring murderously at the completely alcohol-free glass of orange juice in his own hand.

‘Better to be safe than sorry.’ Mickey shrugged, tapping their glasses together.

‘They’re all staring at us.’ Ian said, shifting his glare to the people in the room.

‘Yeah, well, they can get the fuck over themselves. Give it an hour and we can go, okay?’

‘Okay. Where’s the food?’ Ian asked, craning his neck to look for it.

‘No idea.’

‘Adventure time.’ Ian muttered.

‘Yeah... or we could just order pizza when we get home.’ Mickey suggested.

Ian stopped moving. ‘That’s a considerably better idea.’

‘I know. Pizza?’

‘Pizza.’

  


* * *

  


It started out as a normal Sunday evening, having dinner at the Gallagher house with the rest of Ian’s family. Spoonfuls of mashed potato were being flung between Liam and Carl, much to the dismay of Fiona, JimmySteve and Lip were discussing the stock market, and Ian and Mickey were swapping food (Ian’s carrots and corn for Mickey’s peas and beans) while they discussed whatever Debbie was doing in college.

Suddenly, Ian got all quiet, and sat there, staring down at his plate.

‘You okay?’ Mickey asked, rubbing his thumb in circles on Ian’s thigh.

‘Yeah.’ Ian said, giving him a small smile. ‘I, uh. Everything is kind of perfect right now.’

‘Hardly.’ Fiona butted in, finally sitting at the table.

‘No, it is.’ Ian replied. ‘I have something I want to say.’

The table quietened, and looked to Ian expectantly.

He cleared his throat, feeling the pressure of the moment. Ian turned to Mickey and swivelled in his seat to face him fully. ‘You know how much I love you, right?’

‘Yeah...’ Mickey narrowed his eyes. ‘Why...’

Ian grinned at Mickey’s suspiciousness. ‘Mick, I think you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met. I can hardly imagine my life without you, now. I love you more than I can fully express in words, and I was wondering if you would want to marry me?’

The assembled persons gasped, and the only sound was a glob of mashed potato falling off Carl’s fork onto the table.

Ian bit his lip at Mickey’s silence. ‘I mean, only if you want–’

‘I want to.’ Mickey said, stunned into action. ‘Yes. Of course. Of course I want to.’

Ian grinned, and Mickey grinned back, before they put mouth to mouth and the table went erupted into cheers.

  


* * *

  


Mickey had never seen himself as the type who would want to get married.

But he was. And the reason behind that was the fact that waiting for him at their altar, was Ian. Mickey had never really even believed in love until Ian. His parents hadn’t really seemed in love. More fists than kisses were exchanged, and because that was his idea of what love was meant to be like, Mickey had decided at a young age that he never wanted to fall in love. He thought he had done pretty well, up until Ian.

Mickey found that once he had had a taste of what love, _real_ love, was meant to be like, that he couldn’t get enough. He never wanted to stop feeling this good.

‘You ready?’ Mandy asked, poking her head into his hotel room. She tutted and came over to fix his tie, her dark purple dress swishing around her ankles.

‘Yeah.’ Mickey said, nodding. ‘I am.’

Mandy smiled at him as she pulled him in for a hug. ‘Never thought you’d be the first married. Never thought you’d even _get_ married.’

‘Me neither.’ Mickey agreed.

‘Need some liquid courage?’ Mandy asked, pulling a flask out from God knows where.

‘I’m good.’ Mickey said, sounding surprised, even to his own ears. ‘I’m not nervous at all.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay then. Let’s go.’ Mandy said, depositing the flask into her purse (so that’s where it came from) and waiting for him by the door from his room.

Mickey took one last look in the mirror, smiled at himself, and left with Mandy.

  


* * *

  


Mickey was escorted up the aisle by Mandy – not because he was taking position as “the bride”, but because he was late. Typical.

The vows were quick and painless, the kiss was amazing, and people cried the entire way through.

At the reception, Mickey and Ian sat up at their table, with Mandy on one side, and Lip on the other.

Mickey and Ian were in their own little bubble, so when Lip tapped his glass, hard enough to almost shatter it, they were startled back into reality.

‘Speeches!’ Lip cried. ‘I’ll go first.’

It was as embarrassing as you’d imagine the speech of a big brother to be, with added details like the time that he had walked in on Mickey and Ian in the shower definitely _not_ getting clean, as well as some fond memories of Ian from childhood, like when he got a pea stuck in his ear. Lip received a decent applause, and sat back down, looking very pleased with himself.

Mandy went next, then Fiona, Kev, and a few of Mickey’s friends from college. Someone else was just about to come up to the dais to make another speech, when Mickey bet them to it.

‘I need to get this off my chest, so before anyone else goes, I would like to make a toast.’ Mickey stood up, raising his glass and facing Ian. ‘To my magnificent husband, Ian.’ Mickey smiled, and put his free hand on Ian’s shoulder. ‘It all started with a Snapchat, really. I wish I had taken a screenshot of it, but sadly, I was too stunned to do anything about it. Anyway, the fact that we went from – frankly very irresponsible – Snapchatting, to where we are now... It seems like I’m in a dream, almost. You’re everything I never even knew I wanted, because I didn’t believe in love until you came along.’ A few people in the roomed “aww”ed at that, and Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Even if I had, I wouldn’t have dreamed of ending up with someone as incredible as you. I can’t believe there was actually a time when I didn’t think I deserved to be with you. I still don’t, sometimes, because you’re perfect to me.’

‘You too, Mick.’ Ian said quietly, smiling up at him.

‘Shh, I’m not finished.’ Mickey said with a wink. ‘The thing is, I’ve come to realise that when one is presented with a perfect thing in life, they should hold it as tightly as they can, and never let go. I suppose marriage is about as tight as you can get, and I do, I _really_ do, look forward to spending the rest of my life with you. There is no one I would rather wake up to every day, and nowhere I would rather be than by your side. Here’s to us, and here’s to Ian.’

‘To Ian!’ the room echoed, followed by glasses clinking.

As Mickey sat back down, Ian leaned over, kissed him lightly, and said, ‘I think that’s the longest I’ve ever gone without hearing you swear.’

Mickey laughed, kissed Ian again – he could never kiss Ian enough – and replied with, ‘Fuck you.’

Ian grinned. ‘Always.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay. So. Kaleidoscope is officially finished. It's a weird feeling. Thank you to everyone who supported me through this fic, leaving comments and kudos, and coming to see me on Tumblr to lend me their thoughts. You're all fantastic and I love you for putting up with me and my (probably fucking annoying) notes everywhere. 
> 
> Basically, just a hugeass thank you to everyone.
> 
> You can find me at im-not-his-keeper.tumblr.com (if you want idk). Maybe because it's 3:10am and I get really emotional after midnight, but I'm sort of crying because this is finished.


End file.
